The problem with inheritance
by Sandalino Silvio Leif
Summary: When a wizard turns 16 they inherit talents that belonged to their parents. While it's usually a good thing, hey, this is Harry Potter we're talking about. Throw in another... odd teenager, and this is what happens. Slash DMHP ON Hold 'til Winter Break
1. chapter one

A/N: this is the second story I'm posting. This one is slash although probably not even the slightest inkling until the third or fourth chapter. Also I don't own harry potter, though I wish I did. That would be J.K. and Warner bros. Thanks for reading and please review. PS things will make more sense later.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Everyone knows that when a wizard turns sixteen he or she comes into his or her full power which can be tenfold or more what they previously had. And that was why harry was pacing up and down the floor of his bedroom at ten thirteen on the night of July thirtieth. Ron and Hermione had both come into their powers during the school year and while Hermione's power sextupled, Ron's power had only quintupled. However Ron had inherited this weird ability to send objects flying around the room when he was stressed. Neville's power had quadrupled but he seemed to have inherited an amazing green thumb. Everyone knew who had gotten their powers, even if no one knew what those powers were. Harry couldn't wait for his new powers. What had his parents left him? This was like their final gift to him. What would it be.  
  
At ten thirty something odd happened. There was a tiny whistling sound that could be heard all through the house. What was it? Harry looked around. It wasn't in his room. The whistle began to grow in volume. Suddenly it woke the Dursleys up. After spending the summer dealing with wizards concerned with Harry's safety, anything else odd, weather or not it had anything to do with harry, would push him over the edge.  
  
Uncle Vernon stormed down the hall and bashed open Harry's door.  
  
"What the hell do you think you are doing!?! Your aunt and I are trying to sleep and Dudley too! Shut up the whistling now!"  
  
"I can't" said harry "I'm not the one doing it."  
  
"You bloody well are!"  
  
"Am not!  
  
"Yes you are!"  
  
Harry was feeling angry and reckless, a bad combination in an adolescent wizard. "even if I was making the whistling noise I wouldn't shut it up just because you two idiots and very fat, that's an understatement by the way , very fat cousin can get your beauty sleep! Not that it would help any!"  
  
harry knew he'd gone to far uncle Vernon turned a deep shade of purple and grabbed harry by his neck and one wrist. He charged down the stairs, kicked open the door, for got to open the new glass door, and threw harry bodily through the glass and into the street. Half a minute later Harry's trunk, already packed, followed and landed on him. Strait after that Hedwig and her cage followed. Harry heard Mr. Dursley yell  
  
"you are NEVER going to set ONE FOOT in my house EVER AGAIN!!!" before he slammed the door. Harry slowly picked his bloodied and broken body up. His right arm was hanging at an awkward angle and his left leg couldn't hold his weight. His glasses were smashed and his head and left arm were bleeding badly from the glass they'd been thrown through. Suddenly he remembered Hedwig. With a cry he ran to where he'd seen his beloved owl's cage land. His breath caught in his throat when he saw the state she was in. the cage had been broken in places when it hit the ground and had jabbed sharp bits into her poor little body. She was rather squished as well because Vernon had grabbed the cage to hard.  
  
He broke down at the sight of the blood on the white feathers. but wait. She was moving! He stumbled closer and carefully ripped away the remains of her cage. She was alive!  
  
But she wouldn't remain alive for long. Quickly he tore off his T-shirt and began making strips of it. As he was wrapping the carefully about Hedwig he heard a soft hooting that didn't come from her. He looked around and, miracle of miracles, there was Pigwidgoen standing on the lamp post. Harry raised his hand and the bird landed on it. He quickly tore the note off pig's leg. pig got down and stood next to Hedwig, hooting softly at her.  
  
Dear harry, Please send your answer back sharp when you get your powers! I wanna know what they are. How's your summer been? See ya at Diagon alley! Ron  
  
Harry fumbled for a moment before realizing that he didn't have a quill or ink or anything. Wait that wasn't true. He had an idea.  
  
He fashioned the remains of his shirt into a sling at placed Hedwig carefully into it. Then he took the piece of paper and, finding nothing better, wrote Help her, I'll be alright. on the back of the parchment in his own blood, which was in abundance.  
  
He then placed the note in Hedwig's sling and picked up pig.  
  
"You have to get her to Ron okay? You have to." He could swear that pig understood him. Pig then grasped the top of the sling and, despite his size, managed easily to lift off and fly into the night. Harry looked back at the house. When he was healed Vernon Dursley would be one very very sorry man. 


	2. chapter two

Recap: He then placed the note in Hedwig's sling and picked up pig. "You have to get her to Ron okay? You have to." He could swear that pig understood him. Pig then grasped the top of the sling and, despite his size, managed easily to lift off and fly into the night. Harry looked back at the house. When he was healed Vernon Dursley would be one very very sorry man.  
  
Chapter two  
  
Harry suddenly realized the state he was in. bruised, cut and bloodied not to mention whatever he'd done to his arm and leg. He also had no where to go and no way of contacting anyone without using magic. He'd been in this position before though and knew what to do. Slowly and painfully he managed to pull his trunk onto the sidewalk. Then he opened it and fumbled around in it looking for his robes. It was hard to see when he had only the street lamp for light and had to work around his broom but he eventually found his black Hogwarts robes and managed to put them on. He then pulled out his moneybag and counted to make sure he had enough. He had exactly ten sickles and twenty-nine Knuts. Just enough. Harry then stuck out his wand hand and waited for a large noise and bright lights. They came almost instantly in the form of a triple Decker violently purple bus with gold lettering on the front. Then the purple garbed conductor jumped off and started speaking. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded Witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can. 'Arry potter? Look awful 'at you do." "Thanks Stan. Look, I need to get to Diagon Alley again and I'm in a bit of trouble so can we hurry up? Here's the money you need." Harry handed the coins to Stan Shunpike, the conductor of the knight bus, who still had quite a few pimples. Stan stepped back on board and reached down to grasp one end of Harry's trunk. It was a good thing that Stan was stronger than last time because harry was no help at all. Stan seemed to realize that with all the blood on his face Harry would not want to be seen and so Stan gave him the furthest back bed on the bottom floor. Harry, once in it, fell immediately asleep and didn't wake again until eleven fifty five when they finally reached the leaky cauldron. As Stan was unloading Harry's trunk onto the pavement he said. "Sure you'll be alright 'arry? 'Cause you look awful, what wit all dat blood." "I'll be fine Stan, and I'm sorry if I got any blood on the sheets." "der cleanable. Se ya 'arry." "Goodbye Stan, and thanks." Then, with a bang the Knight bus disappeared. Almost as soon as the bus was gone harry felt a wave of pain and knew, some how, it was midnight. Of course, being the boy-who-bloody-lived, he'd have a painful inheritance. Of course. Then came another wave of pain and another, each one more intense than the last. Harry knew something was happening to his body but he couldn't tell, through all the pain, what. Eventually the pain stopped and presently harry was able to stand up again. He felt different. He was taller. His arm and leg weren't so far out of alignment. Something else was different too but he didn't know what. He dragged his trunk to the door of the leaky cauldron and walked in, up to the bar. The whole place was silent. Everyone was staring at him. "Uh, excuse me, umm, I need to stay for at least a night, probably more like several weeks. Can I get a room?" Tom the toothless old innkeeper recovered himself and gestured. "Come right this way Mr. Potter." 


	3. chapter three

A/N: it took me longer than I expected to type this chapter. I wrote it out between periods on Tuesday and Wednesday but I didn't get a chance to type it until today. My Apologies. From now on I won't predict when I'll get things done. I'm halfway through the next chapter. Enjoy.  
  
Recap: he dragged his trunk to the door of the leaky cauldron and walked in, up to the bar. The whole pace was silent. Everyone was staring at him. "Uh, excuse me, umm, I need to stay for at least a night, probably more like several weeks. Can I get a room?" Tom the toothless old innkeeper recovered himself and gestured. "Come right this way Mr. Potter."  
  
Chapter three  
  
Harry followed him down the hallway, up a few stairs, and down another hallway. They were moving rather slowly because harry was having trouble with his trunk. 'So much for being the boy-who-lived. No one will even help a bloody boy-who-lived drag his trunk.  
  
Finally they hit the end of the end of the hallway and tom opened the last door. Inside was a very nice room meant for the long-term stays.  
  
"Will you be requiring anything else this evening Mr. Potter?"  
  
"Uh, no, thanks. This is great, thanks."  
  
Tom left Harry in the room and Harry promptly collapsed on the bed. Then he remembered something and he slowly raised himself up and looked into the full-length mirror across from the bed. His eyes got very big. He slowly, rather warily, stood and looked at himself. As he looked his mouth fell open.  
  
Oh sweet mother of Merlin.  
  
He looked.  
  
He was.  
  
His hair. shoulder length (but still messy).  
  
His height. six inches taller at least.  
  
The gashes and cuts on his face didn't look like they'd been obtained hours ago, try a few days ago. His body had changed in other ways as well. He had this cat-like grace that he'd never experienced before. He shrugged out of his robes and winced when he saw the state his arm was in. and yet. his arm too looked as though it had had several days of healing.  
  
This was all wrong! A wizard's change at sixteen was not supposed to be physical! Yet here he was. Wounds healing at two or three times the normal rate, hair elongated, and an extra six or more inches of height. The grace of an assassin and he now noticed that the muscles he'd attained playing Quidditch, which had started to fade as he was nearly starved over the summer, were back and even more toned than they had been before he arrived at the Dursley's.  
  
It was too much.  
  
Whatever he'd inherited was way stranger than ANYTHING his friends, or anyone else he'd ever heard of for that matter, had gotten. He suddenly let out a loud yawn.  
  
Ah well, he could worry about magic in the morning.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Ouch. Who ran me over?"  
  
Harry slowly rolled over groaning at the pain in his body. He was as sore as if he'd been hit by a car, which isn't all that far from being thrown through a glass door and flattened by a trunk, and his veins felt odd. His veins, yes veins, felt tight sort of. He felt seriously dehydrated. When he forced himself to stand up, carefully avoiding touching his right arm, he noticed that the cat-like grace of the night before was missing. In its place was a slow, painful, jerky way of moving that was very hard on his leg.  
  
Looking in his mirror he got another shock. His cuts were entirely scabbed over. And there was this ache in his canine teeth. This persistent ache in his canines that just could not be ignored. It was increasing in direct proportion to the tightness in his veins and the soreness in his body.  
  
And now all his little cuts and larger gashes began to sting and then to burn as though the nerve endings were on fire.  
  
He pulled off the shirt he'd slept in last night, it had been a clean one then but certainly wasn't now, an inspected the burning gashes and cuts on his upper arm.  
  
The dried blood on his arm looked so. strange.  
  
Strange and something else.  
  
He wanted to do. something.  
  
The blood.  
  
He wanted to. the blood.  
  
He needed the blood.  
  
Without any idea of what he was doing harry sprinted to the door, heedles of his injured leg, and burst through into the hallway. The first thing he saw was the wizard from the room across the hall.  
  
Baecause his room was at the end of the corridor furthest from the main rooms no one heard the wizard's muffled squeak as harry grabbed him and dragged him backwards into an alcove.  
  
No one heard harry's sigh of relief and. pleasure as he sank his canines, much elongated, into the wizard's neck.  
  
And for some reason the wizard never knew why he woke up propped against the wall.  
  
And harry, poor harry, finally knew what his inheritance was. 


	4. chapter four

Recap: No one heard Harry's sigh of relief and. pleasure as he sank his canines, much elongated, into the wizard's neck. And for some reason the wizard never knew why he woke up propped against the wall. And Harry, poor Harry, finally knew what his inheritance was.  
  
Chapter four  
  
Upon reaching his room Harry collapsed, shivering, on to the bed. He was shivering in horror at what he'd done.  
  
And yet.. It had felt so good.  
  
The wizard's blood had somehow loosened his veins. The aches in his canines had been sated. If he hadn't been shivering in horror he would have noticed that the cat-like grace had returned. He tried to lie there recovering his control but in the end he gave up.  
  
He rolled off the bed and started going through his trunk. After digging through it for about ten minutes he finally found what he was looking for.  
  
He flipped to the back section just before Veelas, and then he read. For an hour he lay there, on his stomach on his bed, and read. He learned about the vampire's powers of accelerated healing, telepathy, and super-human speed and grace. Apparently all vampire talents increase with age. They automatically have slightly sharper senses than regular humans do and it all sharpens unlike many human senses.  
  
He learned about vampire physiology. Vampires can live quite well without ever killing anyone. They need to feed once every two or three days but an average vampire can go for almost a month without feeding and can recover although it is a very painful experience. There are records of older vampires able to go for years without feeding. The oldest on record at the ministry was about seven hundred but it's rumored that there are even older ones.  
  
From several studies done with friendly vampires it was found that there is an automatic reaction when a vampire is feeding that causes them to wipe the experience from their prey's mind. In time and special circumstances this can be controlled.  
  
And finally, families. Vampires are created in two ways. Someone who is not a vampire can be drained of blood and then fed blood from a willing vampire. Or, they can simply be the offspring of a vampire and a non- vampire. See, a vampire is technically dead. That's why they are called "the living dead" or "the undead". And so two vampires cannot reproduce unless they are both halfblood or less. The pairing has to be at least fifty percent non-dead. At least fifty percent non-vampire.  
  
Here's the catch though, while a vampire who is "changed" receives the powers and such immediately, a vampire with vampiric ancestry will be a normal wizard (although trouble always seems to follow them) until it's sixteenth birthday when it goes through the normal power increase but also receives all of the vampiric traits, essentially dying, and becoming a vampire.  
  
Like harry had.  
  
After skimming the book for any other mention of vampires harry decided that he would have to go to Flourish and Blotts to find some other books on the subject. First though he would have to clean himself up a bit.  
  
One long, hot, painful, shower, which opened up most of his cuts and gashes, later, Harry was toweling his hair dry. He pulled on a pair of jeans, and carefully pulled on a T-shirt. Realizing that the blood from his arm would show through he set about tearing another T-shirt into strips and bandaging hi arm the best he could. He also attempted to tame his hair in such a way that it would fall across his face and hide most of the cuts and such there.  
  
Finally satisfied that he was as well dressed as he was going to get he grabbed the key to his vault and his empty moneybag and headed for the door. Just as he was reaching for the handle there was a loud tapping sound on his window. Turning he saw a barn owl perched on the windowsill. Tied to its leg was a letter bearing the Hogwarts seal. Great, he thought, now I can have a lecture on running away from the Dursleys or something similar.  
  
He opened the window, removed the letter, and watched the owl fly away. Upon opening the envelope he found the customary school letter with a few changes.  
  
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  
  
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)  
  
Dear Mr. Potter,  
  
Knowing that you will be feeling a bit confused with the turn of events here's a few pointers. Restrain yourself to feeding in back alleys and such. It would be very bad if the ministry got wind of your change. Just like werewolves, vampires get very bad publicity even though they aren't all bad. Whatever you do, do not kill. Do not tell anyone except, maybe, your two friends. Ms. Granger will probably be helpful. Do not worry about blood when you get to school, all will be taken care of. All other questions will be answered by the headmaster upon your arrival. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. Catch the Hogwarts express from King's Cross at platform nine and three-quarters.  
  
Yours Sincerely,  
  
Minerva McGonagall,  
  
Deputy Headmistress  
  
Well, thought Harry, that certainly was unexpected. But not necessarily unwanted. At least Dumbledore and McGonagall were there to help. He pulled out his book list. As well as another defense against the dark arts book and transfiguration book he was also supposed to get one on occulmancy and the history of the greatest aurors. There were also three books on vampires suggested.  
  
Well it was a start.  
  
A/N: sorry it took me so long. I had this written but it is a real challenge to find the time to type it up. I know I didn't answer many questions but the next part I write should clarify things and it should be a little longer. I just figured I'd kept you waiting long enough. With luck I'll have the next bit up by the end of the week. No promises though. 


	5. chapter five

Recap: Well, thought Harry, that certainly was unexpected. But not necessarily unwanted. At least Dumbledore and McGonagall were there to help. He pulled out his book list. As well as another defense against the dark arts book and transfiguration book he was also supposed to get one on occulmancy and the history of the greatest aurors. There were also three books on vampires suggested. Well it was a start.  
  
Chapter five  
  
Two hours later harry was slowly walking down the hall to his room with his nose buried in a book. While he was out he had noticed something else. He could see perfectly well without his glasses, which was good since they were completely shattered and he wasn't allowed to use magic.  
  
He was forced to put down his book, 'a diary of the vampire Jim Bowen', when he opened his door and was knocked to the ground by the two people who had been sitting on his bed for the past twenty minutes.  
  
"Ooh harry. I'm so glad you're alright."  
  
"When we got Hedwig and mum fixed her up we were so afraid for you."  
  
"You just had to reply in blood didn't you?"  
  
"I was worried mate."  
  
"And when we heard about the Dursleys."  
  
Hermione suddenly fell silent. Ron continued to talk for a moment before he saw what Hermione had seen. Harry's hair had fallen sideways off his face and the gashes and cuts were now visible.  
  
Ron was the first to break the shocked silence. "Damn harry, you look like road kill off hell's highway. I've been listening to muggle music this summer and the 'highway to hell' doesn't sound like a very pleasant place."  
  
Hermione simply stared at him.  
  
"Uh, hi. Sorry about the blood thing but there really wasn't much else. Is Hedwig alright?"  
  
"Yeah, she's fine. Mum says she'll be flying here in just a few hours. We had a right bit of trouble keeping Hedwig from chasing you down for this long let me tell you."  
  
"Thanks Ron. Now would the two of you mind getting off? I'm starting to loose feeling in my left arm."  
  
All the while Ron and Hermione were clambering up Hermione never took her eyes off the side of Harry's head. As a result she misjudged distance and smacked into Harry's right arm. Since she was still watching his face she saw the momentary look of pain that crossed it.  
  
As soon as they were all standing in a more orderly fashion Hermione pushed harry backwards onto the bed. She then proceeded to remove his shirt. Ron was staring at Hermione in complete incomprehension until, that is, he caught sight of the bloodied makeshift bandages. His look changed to one of puzzlement then and horror when Hermione removed the bandages.  
  
"Sweet mother of Merlin."  
  
"My sentiments exactly."  
  
"Harry what happened?" Hermione was frowning hard.  
  
"Yeah mate and what's with the glasses and hair? And you're as tall as me." Hermione glared at Ron as though she thought there were more important things than glasses, or lack there of, hair and height.  
  
"What happened harry?"  
  
Harry shifted uneasily.  
  
"Nothin' much. My uncle threw me out."  
  
"Why do I get the feeling that's literal?"  
  
"'Cause it is."  
  
"But you couldn't have gotten this from hitting the pavement. This looks like glass."  
  
Harry shifted again. "We got a new glass door this summer."  
  
"Oh my god harry! He threw you through the glass door?!"  
  
"Yes. And my trunk and my owl."  
  
Hermione shook her head grimly and pulled out her wand. Pointing it at harry she muttered a healing spell.  
  
It didn't work.  
  
She tried it again.  
  
Still it didn't work.  
  
She tried it a third time.  
  
This time it seemed that his skin tried valiantly to comply with the wishes of the spell. It hurt like hell but he still didn't heal. Then of course he remembered the line in the textbook about how vampires are immune to physical spells.  
  
"Hermione, please don't do that again."  
  
Hermione caught the pain in his voice and wisely decided not to try it again.  
  
"I don't understand. That spell should have worked."  
  
Ron was looking curiously at harry.  
  
"Hermione, do you notice anything odd about the cuts?"  
  
"Other than the fact that I couldn't make them heal and only caused them to start bleeding again? No."  
  
Ron had a look on his face as though he was thinking very hard. Then suddenly all of the loose ends came together.  
  
"Hermione, his cuts are already healing."  
  
"But the spell didn't work."  
  
"Right. And he only got the cuts last night." Hermione's mouth opened into a perfectly circular O. Ron turned to harry.  
  
"What was your inheritance?"  
  
Resignedly harry asked "Are you sure you want to know?"  
  
They glared at him.  
  
"Alright I'll tell you but you have to swear not to tell anyone else." They gave him get-on-with-it looks.  
  
"Don't say I didn't warn you."  
  
Harry slowly stood up. He stared at the blood on his arm. The free flowing blood. The blood that was such a beautiful crimson color. He felt the need for it as he had the first time but because he'd already fed he was able to control it. He felt his canines lengthening into fangs.  
  
Fangs bared, he turned. Hermione and Ron would have been freaked enough to see the assassin's grace with which he turned but, at least for Hermione, the sight of his fangs and the green flame burning in his eyes was too much. Hermione feinted dead away onto the bed.  
  
Harry blinked hard several times and shook his head as if to rid himself of bloody thoughts. His fangs retracted and his eyes cooled. Ron seemed to get his voice back.  
  
"Bloody hell. You're a Vampire?"  
  
"Quite."  
  
Ron looked at him uneasily.  
  
"Don't look so frightened. I'm perfectly safe, so long as I've fed in the last few days. I've been reading."  
  
Ron still looked a bit uncomfortable.  
  
"You were right about my height. That increased, as did the length of my hair. I don't seem to need my glasses anymore either. It was painful but I'm still me, just with a few, uh, complications."  
  
Ron looked a little less uneasy.  
  
"Alright I believe you. Now lets wake Hermione up."  
  
A/N: Wow. I didn't think I could type that fast! I'm home sick though so I guess it's not surprising I'd be bored enough to type. Ah well, with luck the next part will be up in a few days. We will be running into a certain Slytherin soon. That should be fun. 


	6. chapter six

Recap: "It was painful but I'm still me, just with a few, uh, complications." Ron looked a little less uneasy. "Alright I believe you. Now lets wake Hermione up."  
  
Chapter six  
  
A few hours later they were sitting on Harry's bed. Ron had conjured hot tea for himself and Hermione, apparently prefects were allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts, and harry and Ron were watching Hermione very very carefully. She seemed to have recovered somewhat but they were still fearful that her brain would go into overload again or something. However, after six cups of tea she seemed normal again, as in she wanted to dive headfirst into the pile of vampire books that harry had bought.  
  
And harry had to admit, it felt a whole lot better knowing that his friends understood and accepted what he was. And then he realized something, this was amazingly similar to what had happened in 'the marauder's era'. Remus was an, um, interesting creature and yet, when his friends found out they understood and were willing to keep his secret and work around it. Harry too was an interesting creature and his friends accepted that and saw it as an opportunity, at least Hermione did. She saw it as an opportunity to read as much as she could about vampires.  
  
The upside to Hermione's reading was that Harry was learning more than he would have if he'd been left to his own devices. For instance, Hermione had figured out quite a lot about what his parents must have been. A born vampire was almost always very dark. Not necessarily skin-dark but dark of hair and eye. This led them to believe that James potter was born a vampire while lily was made a vampire. They assumed that lily was a vampire because a vampire will usually change it's mate.  
  
There were other things they read about that would have helped them guess what Harry's inheritance was had they heard of them sooner. Aside from that whole "dark born vampire" thing born vampires had a high tolerance to pain, were magnets for trouble and injuries, tended to be very lax about rules and regulations, liked to fly, and disliked killing. They also tended to be either very brave and could get away with almost anything. All of these traits fit harry very well.  
  
But eventually it began to get dark and Ron and Hermione said that they really should have been back by now. And so they picked them selves up, straitened the books, and prepared to go. Hermione had a stack set aside to take with her. And then they were gone, out the door, both carrying books as there were too many for Hermione alone to carry.  
  
Harry sighed and turned to flop down onto his bed but before he could there came a loud tapping from the direction of his window. He opened it and in flew Hedwig. She was as good as before the episode with Mr. Dursley. There was a note tide to her leg, which he removed once she settled on top of her cage. With Hedwig crooning peacefully in the background harry read the note.  
  
Dear harry,  
  
Hope you're all right. Ron and Hermione did get there? Hedwig will be fine and you can come spend the rest of the summer here if you want to.  
  
Love from all of us Weaslys,  
  
Molly  
  
P.S. Our condolences about the Dursleys.  
  
Now that's odd, thought Harry, that is the second time someone has mentioned the Dursleys. Oh well. Once again harry turned to collapse on his bed. As he did so he heard noise in the hall outside his room. Walking to the door he realized that it sounded like footsteps. Two pairs. And something else. Something being dragged. A trunk. That was it. Two people and a trunk.  
  
He opened his door a few inches and was surprised at what he saw. Tom the innkeeper was gesturing at the open door of the room across from Harry's. Apparently the wizard that harry had, um, met that morning had moved out. Harry was going to have a new neighbor and it was the very last person he could have expected.  
  
Malfoy.  
  
Draco Malfoy.  
  
Harry was completely speechless as he stood there in his now-wide-open doorway and watched a very disheveled Malfoy drag his trunk into the room across the hall.  
  
"is that all you'll be requiring this evening Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
"Yes, thank you."  
  
As tom turned away harry and Malfoy locked eyes for just and instant before harry shut his door and turned, for the third time, to collapse on his bed with his thoughts. And for the third time he was unable to. Just at that moment came a knock on his door. Upon opening it he came face to face with none other tan Malfoy.  
  
For a long moment they just stared at each other, glaring hatred. Malfoy broke first.  
  
"Potter."  
  
"Malfoy."  
  
"Look, I need a favor." Harry couldn't believe his ears. There was a *Malfoy* of all people asking *him* for a *favor*.  
  
"What kind of favor?"  
  
"Can I come in first?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Please." Now when was the last time a Malfoy was heard to say please? Harry let him in out of pure astonishment.  
  
Upon entering the room Malfoy quickly strode to Harry's bed and sat down on the end. Harry noticed Malfoy was paler than usual, if that were possible.  
  
"What kind of favor?" Harry asked, shutting the door.  
  
"I, uh, lost the use of my wand. It, uh, got snapped and I really need a spell performed."  
  
"And I'm supposed to believe that?"  
  
"It's the truth."  
  
"I repeat, and I'm supposed to believe that?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well even if I believed you I couldn't help. Students aren't allowed to do magic outside of school unless it's an emergency."  
  
"I think this might qualify as an emergency." Harry looked incredulously at Malfoy. Malfoy responded by removing his robes and setting them on Harry's bed. Malfoy's shirt was white at the top but it was an odd red color towards the bottom. The color of his shirt was explained as he removed it. Harry caught only one brief glance of what was underneath the shirt but that was enough. Malfoy had three very deep and ugly gashes across his lower right side and abdomen.  
  
"Shit."  
  
Harry spun away, averting his eyes, and took two large strides to the head of his bed where his wand was lying under a pillow. As he bent down to retrieve it his hair fell in a curtain obscuring his face from view. Malfoy couldn't see harry struggling with his fangs and for that harry was grateful.  
  
It was probably the most difficult spell harry ever had to cast. It was the spell that Hermione had tried to use on him and it took a lot of concentration to begin with. Add to that the fact that he was concentrating very hard already on not sprouting fangs and jumping Malfoy. well, you get the picture.  
  
He did manage it though. And when he was done and in no danger of jumping Malfoy, Malfoy thanked him.  
  
"I know you had no reason to let me in or help me at all Potter and I know that, were things the way they used to be, I would probably not have done the same for you. Thanks."  
  
"Anytime Malfoy." Harry paused for a moment. "Uh, I take that back. I'd rather you didn't show up mortally wounded on my doorstep every few days but, uh, awe hell. You get what I meant. Right?"  
  
"Yeah potter. I get it."  
  
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Again Malfoy was the one who broke it.  
  
"I'm, uh, sorry, I guess, about the, umm, Dursleys? Is that their name?"  
  
"You're the third person to say something like that. What does everyone know that I don't?!"  
  
"You don't know what happened?"  
  
"Obviously not! I know nothing about them past my uncle throwing me through the door last night!"  
  
"He threw you through the door?"  
  
"Yeah. Now what is it that you know that I don't?"  
  
"It was in all the muggle newspapers as well as the wizarding ones."  
  
"Well maybe I haven't seen a newspaper since then. What happened?"  
  
"Apparently the dark lord, or supporters of the dark lord, planted a muggle device called a bomb in your house. Since the dark lord couldn't get to you with magic means he resorted to muggle means. You family has been taken to St. Mungoes since they are relatives of a wizard."  
  
Harry was speechless. Feeling warred within him. Relief at having got out of there in time. Satisfaction at his uncle having gotten what was coming for hurting Hedwig. Worry because, after all, they were his family. And something else. Something to do with Malfoy. Oh and, for some reason guilt. It took him a moment to realize why.  
  
"The bomb. I heard it. That's why my uncle threw me out. He though it was some freaky thing I was doing. It must have detonated only seconds after I left on the knight bus."  
  
"That's an odd bus isn't it?"  
  
Harry stared at Malfoy.  
  
"What? You think I haven't ever ridden on a bus before?" Malfoy said defensively.  
  
Harry kept staring.  
  
"Well there's a first time for everything. After I was disowned and my wand was snapped I really had no choice."  
  
"You were disowned too?"  
  
"What? That's what your umm relative-"  
  
"Uncle."  
  
"Right. That's what your uncle did?"  
  
"Yeah. He yelled at me that I didn't belong there any more and we weren't related and I was never to set foot in his house again."  
  
"Judging by the picture one the front of the daily prophet this morning you won't ever set foot in that particular house again."  
  
Harry winced.  
  
"Apparently not. But what about you? Why'd you get disowned?"  
  
"I refused to spy at Hogwarts. We Slytherins aren't actually bad. We're just different. A bunch of us decided over the summer that we'd had enough of standing in our fathers' shadows and getting cursed on trains for it."  
  
Harry grinned.  
  
"That was rather interesting wasn't it."  
  
"Oh sure. I always enjoys getting cursed until I'm unrecognizable."  
  
"Well next time don't insult people who can curse better than you."  
  
"I didn't know that!"  
  
"Well you do now."  
  
Malfoy looked thoughtful.  
  
"Yes, I suppose I do."  
  
A/N: okay, I'm really, really bored. Getting out three chapters in under twenty four hours is unheard of for me. 


	7. chapter seven

Recap: Harry grinned. "That was rather interesting wasn't it." "Oh sure. I always enjoys getting cursed until I'm unrecognizable." "Well next time don't insult people who can curse better than you." "I didn't know that!" "Well you do now." Malfoy looked thoughtful. "Yes, I suppose I do."  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
After a moment Malfoy turned to leave... with out his shirt. Harry, realizing this, spun around, grabbed it, and spun back around.  
  
"Wait a moment. You can keep your shirt. I don't want it."  
  
Malfoy turned and took his shirt. For the briefest moment their hands touched and there was a sudden shock. Harry cursed.  
  
"Damn static residue."  
  
Shaking his hand vigorously to rid it of the slightly painful tingling he glanced at Malfoy. This time it was Malfoy who cursed.  
  
"Sweet mother of Merlin."  
  
Harry realized that Malfoy had seen his face... the cut up part that had traveled through the door. Quickly he explained.  
  
"Well what do you expect from getting thrown through a glass door? And as it wasn't exactly life or death I couldn't exactly use magic."  
  
Malfoy raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Looks to me like it's healing already."  
  
"That would be Hermione's doing."  
  
"Why didn't Granger just heal you instead of speeding it up."  
  
"Who knows?"  
  
Malfoy didn't exactly look convinced but for some reason he seemed to respect Harry enough to let the matter drop. With one last curt nod Malfoy left Harry alone with his thoughts and Harry finally managed to collapse onto his bed.  
  
* * * *  
* * * *  
  
In the weeks following Harry and Malfoy mostly avoided each other. As a result they didn't actually have a conversation after that first one. If they ran into each other they would exchange a slight nod and continue on their way.  
  
Harry spent most of his time reading in Flourish and Blotts or in his room. The, uh, more, um, interesting aspects of his life were surprisingly easy to conceal. Every second or third day when he started to feel tight and stretched and he could sense the edges of his blood lust he'd go out into Muggle London and...  
  
He was always very careful to make sure that the muggle would recover. He also discovered something. If he concentrated hard enough he could force a few drops of his own vampiric blood back through his fangs. One drop on a puncture wound and it disappeared. As far ass harry could tell there were no side effects and it was easier, and less painful, than biting his finger. And, after all, he had to eat and it wouldn't do for the wizarding community to notice puncture wounds in the necks of passing muggles.  
  
So really, the weeks leading up to September 1st were all right.  
  
The day before he was due at Kings Cross Ron, Ginny, and Hermione showed up to get their school supplies. Harry was out after another book and he ran into them, literally, as he came out of Flourish and Blotts.  
  
SMASH!!  
  
"I'm so sorry, I really should pay more attention to where I'm going... Ginny?"  
  
She flashed Harry a grin. He was temporarily speechless. She had changed. Oh boy had she changed. Last year she had finally gotten over her shy crush on him but she still was rather conservative. Apparently this summer had been very, um, hot. And she apparently hadn't quite changed her wardrobe yet. Her clothes were defiantly summer clothes. No, more like a hundred and twenty degree weather if you know what I mean. Yup, she had defiantly changed.  
  
"Well, if you're really, really, sorry," she smiled, "then why don't you help us carry the stuff you knocked over?"  
  
"Gladly." He answered and bent to pick up books, "Hey Ron, Hermione."  
  
"Hey Harry."  
  
Hermione was down on her hands and knees picking up books too.  
  
"Hello Harry." She moved close and lowered her voice so that only he could hear.  
  
"I need to talk to you when we get somewhere private." She raised her voice again.  
  
"I hope everything healed alright?"  
  
"Yep. Just fine." He tossed head a bit so that his hair left that side of his face bare. It was completely devoid of any sign that he had traveled through a glass door.  
  
"Where are you guys heading next?"  
  
"Actually, we had just finished and were going to the leaky cauldron hoping to spot you." Hermione answered.  
  
"So are we heading there still?"  
  
"'Course mate. We need rooms."  
  
"Can I follow then?"  
  
Ginny grinned once more.  
  
"Absolutely."  
  
* * *  
* *  
  
Back at the leaky cauldron they got an extra room for Ginny and Hermione to share, Ron would be staying with Harry. Then they split up. The girls went to their room and Harry and Ron dragged Ron's trunk, which he had dropped of here earlier, to Harry's room. On the way they didn't speak much, at least not until Malfoy passed them and, quite casually, nodded and half- smiled in their direction. After he had passed ron just stared for a moment in shocked silence.  
  
"Was that Malfoy?"  
  
"Yes." Harry answered.  
  
"Did he just walk by here without even trying to curse us?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"He didn't even sneer at us?"  
  
"Correct."  
  
"He actually smiled? At us?"  
  
"Yes he did."  
  
Ron turned and glared.  
  
"How come you're taking this so damn calmly?!"  
  
And so harry explained all about the rest of the day after Ron had left. He was gaping by the end of it. But Harry didn't leave him to his astonishment for long. He had questions for Ron. All of them involving his sister.  
  
"I don't know Harry, I just don't know. And I can't say I like her change although it could be worse."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Well, she could be after someone like, oh, Malfoy or Zabini instead of you."  
  
"She's after me?"  
  
"You didn't notice? Bloody hell Harry, I'm her own brother and I noticed! It's kinda hard not to notice the way she walked and talked around you. Are you having me on?"  
  
"Honestly, I didn't notice. I guess I'm just not into things today."  
  
* * *  
* *  
  
Shortly after Ron unpacked the girls showed up. Hermione managed to persuade Ginny to go with Ron and get some dinner for the four of them. Once Ginny was safely out of ear shot Harry asked Hermione what it was all about.  
  
"I read something that I think you should hear.'  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"You have been, er, eating? Right? You haven't been starving yourself? Or anything?"  
  
"Now why would I do... oh. Right. No. I'm just very careful that I don't hurt anyone."  
  
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Oh good. I was so afraid your, uh, noble tendencies would get in the way."  
  
"And why were you so worried? What is it you thought I needed to know?"  
  
"Well, last night I was reading,"  
  
"Big surprise there."  
  
She glared.  
  
"Sorry.'  
  
"As I was saying, I was reading and I ran across some things about vampiric feeding."  
  
"So?"  
  
She glared again.  
  
"I'll shut up."  
  
"Well, I was so scared. You see, I read that the... the vampires... who stop feeding for too long... they... they..."  
  
She seemed too frightened to speak. They were sitting on the end of his bed. Harry moved closer and put his hands on her shoulders.  
  
"Tell me. Please. I need to know."  
  
She nodded.  
  
"They... when they finally give in to the blood lust... and they finally... feed... they... they..." she looked like she was going to cry.  
  
"Oh Harry! They Combust! The blood moves through their veins so fast that they catch fire! They're gone in two seconds. Only a pile of ash left." She broke into sobbing.  
  
"All those p-poor vampires that t-try to not h-hurt people and t-try to st- starve themselves die! And I was s-so afraid that when we c-came here we'd find n-nothing but a p-pile of ashes! Or w-we'd find y-you all shriveled and r-red eyed, l-looking like a m-mummy 'cept f-for your eyes! And wh-when you s-saw us you'd p-pounce and then you'd b-burst into flame."  
  
She started crying in earnest and he hugged her close.  
  
"It's alright Hermione. It's alright. I'm fine. I didn't try to starve myself. You got here in time. It's alright. You don't have to be scared."  
  
She slowly calmed down. When she could speak normally again she pulled back and wiped her eyes on her shirt.  
  
"Thanks Harry. I needed that. I've just been so scared for you. And I didn't dare send you an owl. I was too afraid that it would be intercepted and then the whole wizarding world would know."  
  
He smiled at her, stood up, and offered her his hand.  
  
"Now then Miss Granger, If you've quite finished we ought to be heading down to dinner. Our friends will likely become anxious if we dilly dally any longer."  
  
She smiled back, took his hand, and they went down to dinner.  
  
* * * *  
* Dinner was uneventful, as was the following morning. Something remotely interesting happened as they were loading their trunks into the muggle cab out front. Malfoy joined them. Well, not exactly joined them, he took a different cab, but still.  
  
They spent most of the ride doing one of two things. Either looking out the window at the not-very-interesting-and-in-fact-rather-dull scenery (muggle London for short), or, in Ron's case, staring ahead in undisguised astonishment at a Malfoy riding with a muggle in a muggle car.  
  
For a brief, very brief, moment Harry was tempted to opt for the second option. Another moment though, and then he was shaking away that thought with a slight edge of bewilderment.  
  
Malfoy's taxi arrived at the station first so he was already on the platform before they were out of the cab. They carefully made their way through the crowd and, before any muggles saw, through the barrier. Once on the platform, surrounded by happy families, Harry realized how much he was missing Hogwarts. With the major changes in his life he suddenly felt a great need to be back somewhere familiar.  
  
He, Hermione, Ron and Ginny dragged their trunks aboard and found an empty compartment. Shortly after they settled down Neville Longbottom came in. the last person to enter was new. They'd never seen her before.  
  
Just as the train was starting to pull out they saw a figure running along under the window. She was attempting to keep up with the train despite the fact that she was pushing a trolley with her trunk on it. Realizing that she wouldn't make it Harry and Ron ran into the corridor and threw open the door. Harry jumped put and, running with her, lifted her trunk off of the trolley. Ron grabbed the end of it and held it. Harry jumped back on and they pulled it aboard.  
  
The train was picking up speed and, even without the trolley, the girl was not quite fast enough to overtake the door. Suddenly she tripped. Without a second thought Harry jumped out and picked her up, bodily, and sprinted to keep pace with the train. Ron reached out and grabbed her but by this time harry was loosing his start on the train. No matter how fast he ran he couldn't catch the door. Ron reached out and pulled Harry up but he couldn't quite get him all the way in. Harry was hanging on to one of Ron's hands for dear life. If he let go he would hit the tracks and boy, would that ever be painful.  
  
However Ron, as we well know it, has sweaty hands. Harry couldn't hold on. He started to slip. In the split second when Harry let go two hands shot out and grabbed his arms. Harry held on to them without question and was pulled safely inside where he collapsed onto the person who saved him. Then he saw the face.  
  
It was Malfoy.  
  
* * *  
*  
  
A/N: sorry it took me so long. I have been busy with school. This is my last year in middle school and I've been bouncing off the wall because I got accepted to one of the better high schools in the country. I am on a math team in school (MATHCOUNTS) and last weekend we won at the regional, we're going to state on the twenty-seventh. I also managed to leave my notebook with this chapter and the next (which I'm going to type up as soon as I post this) in my cousins' car when they went to Phoenix for a swim competition (read about my cousin in my profile). Anyway, enough excuses. I'll post this in the next few minutes and then I'll finish my language arts report that's due tomorrow. 


	8. chapter eight

Recap: However Ron, as we well know it, has sweaty hands. Harry couldn't hold on. He started to slip. In the split second when Harry let go two hands shot out and grabbed his arms. Harry held on to them without question and was pulled safely inside, where he collapsed onto the person who saved him. Then he saw the face. It was Malfoy.  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
For a moment that seemed frozen in time Harry didn't move, didn't breath. He just stared at Malfoy as the adrenaline rush cooled and their heart rates, both of them, returned to normal. Their eyes were locked and Harry thought that Malfoy's eyes were probably the deepest, most alluring color he'd ever seen and he wondered why he'd never noticed them before. They were like small pools of water that the light was shining through. The two boys might have gone on staring like that, lost in thought, for quite a long while if the compartment door hadn't opened (it had closed behind them when Ron and Harry ran out).  
  
At the sound of the door Harry and Malfoy realized their rather, uh, compromising position. They sprang apart and were dusting them selves off by the time the door was fully opened. Next to them Ron and the girl, neither of whom seemed to have noticed Harry and Malfoy, were doing the same. Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were staring at the four of them. They looked from Harry to Malfoy, to Harry, to Ron, to the girl, and back to Ron before settling on Harry. Hermione spoke first.  
  
"Would someone explain to me what just happened?"  
  
Harry looked at Ron. Ron looked at Harry. The girl looked uncertain. Malfoy looked bored, turned, and walked down the corridor and into an open compartment. Harry, for some obscure reason (possibly because Malfoy had quite probably saved his life), felt that he owed Malfoy... something. He sprinted after him and caught up just inside the compartment out of ear and eyeshot of his friends.  
  
"Look, I... thanks."  
  
"Forget it."  
  
"No really-"  
  
"Shut it Potter. You helped me. I helped you. We're square. Now you had better get back to your little group."  
  
Harry hesitated for an instant before turning and leaving the compartment. Malfoy thought he heard Harry say something as he left but he was probably mistaken. After all, he and Potter were practically mortal enemies, weren't they? So there was no way Potter could have said what he thought he said. He thought Potter had said  
  
"You're really not as bad as you make yourself out to be."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Back in their compartment Harry and Ron explained what had happened.  
  
"I guess Malfoy felt he owed me for the spell that night. That is what I understood of what he said. Meanwhile, may we have an introduction to our new friend?" He looked inquiringly at the girl. She smiled and spoke in a very 'Texas' accent but without all the 'ya'alls' and 'folks'.  
  
"M' name's Jesse. 'M from the states, Texas t' be specific. M' mother took it into her head that life 's too quite 'n' so we moved. 'M sixteen. What 'bout you?" Everyone introduced themselves and they gradually got into an easy conversation that ranged over all sorts of topics. Jesse (Harry only then noticed what she looked like. Brown, slightly curly hair that went down to about her shoulder blades and brown eyes flecked with bits of emerald. About Ginny's height, maybe shorter, rather pretty but by no means beautiful.) loved Country western music. Garth Brooks, the Dixie chicks, Joe Diffe, Kenny Chesney, Reba McEntyre, Blake Shelton, Collin Raye, Clint Black, Randy Travis, Alan Jackson, Trisha Yearwood, Toby Keith, Keith Urban (she bent over and told Hermione "'f all the singers I've e'er seen pictures of, he's t' die for. We're talkin' seriously hot 'n' with a drop dead gorgeous accent."), George Strait, Trace Atkins, Brad Paisley, Dirks Bently, Chris Cagle... she could go on for hours she said. She loved to read anything she could get her hands on, but preferred old western or cowboy stories, especially ones about her namesake, Jesse James. She watched the bull riding competitions every year and her uncle owned a pistol that was worth millions. She was all right with the move but she was sad because her lifelong friend and next door neighbor, Jeremy (she pronounced it Jair - mEE), was back at home and she hadn't had word from him in three months.  
  
"'ats not like 'im. 's far back as I c'n remember we've been best friends. First time we stood, w' did 't hangin' on t' eachother. 'r first steps were taken 'and in 'and. M' first word was 'Jeremy'. 'is first was 'Jess'. We were the kind a friends 'at know eachother better 'n' our selves. 'til this move we'd ne'er been farder 'n a mile 'part. I miss him somthin' awful."  
  
They all sat in silence after that, each contemplating how they related to what Jesse had said. Harry broke the silence.  
  
"I've never had a friend that close, before Hogwarts I didn't have any friends period. But I've got the closest thing possible for someone like me. I've got the two best friends anyone could wish for."  
  
He looked at Ron and Hermione and his eyes were shining with pride and joy.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The rest of the ride was spent explaining the past five years, in great detail, to Jesse. Nothing was spared, not even Harry and Ron's girl problems in fourth year. The lady with the cart came, they all grabbed snacks and, for a brief moment, all was quiet. It started to darken so they changed back to back and never once broke the flow of the stories (obsessed I know).  
  
They were happily reminiscing about past exploits when the train pulled into Hogsmead station. It looked about to rain so they hurriedly split up into two carriages for the ride to the school.  
  
As they rode in the thestral-drawn carriages, the thought sprang unbidden to Harry's mind that it would be quicker to simply ride the thestral. Then, of course, he remembered the single time he'd ridden one. He could picture everything so clearly. His vision. The diversion. The fireplace. Grimmauld place. Kreacher. Umbrige. Lying. The forbidden forest. The centaurs. Grawp. The DA members. Thestrals. Flying. Landing. The ministry. The hallway. The door. The spinning room. Shelves with glass spheres. Voldermort. The prophecy. Running. Spells. A baby deatheater. Ron and Hermione hurt. Neville hit. Seats. The veil. Them. Fighting. Remus. Bellatrix. Sirius. Falling. The veil. Falling. Gone. For good. Gone.  
  
No matter how hard he tried to forget, he still saw Sirius every night in his dreams. He'd relived it a hundred times. And it hurt! The reminder every day and night that, this time, Harry had lost Sirius for good, hit him hard every time he thought about it. For the first month after that day, Harry had dreamt about it every night. He saw and felt everything as clearly as he had when it had happened. Recently his dreams had become fewer and farther apart, but they had also become steadily worse. They now involved everything from Cedric's death to Mrs. Weasley's boggart. In his dreams he could see exactly what was happening but he was powerless to stop it.  
  
That summer, Harry had told Hermione about the dreams and she had sent him a carved wooden cross. To a casual glance, that was all it was, but, to a wizard, it was more. This cross, when hung above the bed, acted like a silencing spell and kept the Dursleys from hearing him. And so, no one heard Harry's screaming as everyone he loved was tortured and killed. He would toss and turn in silence as Voldermort levitated Ron and Hermione's tortured, bloody corpses. In silence, he would scream out the names when the Weasley's house exploded. In silence, He would scratch his hands, to the point where they bled, because they were covered in the blood of the only people he'd ever loved. He –  
  
"HARRY!!!"  
  
His head jerked up painfully as he realized that Hermione and Ron had been trying to get his attention for the past two minutes.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
They looked at him worriedly.  
  
"You alright mate?"  
  
"Yes Ron, I'm fine."  
  
They didn't look convinced.  
  
"I was just... the thestrals reminded me of the dreams."  
  
Hermione looked at him sympathetically.  
  
"The cross worked though."  
  
Hermione looked rather satisfied, but the satisfaction was diluted with concern. Ron looked confused.  
  
"What're you on about? What dreams? What cross? What's going on?"  
  
So Harry explained. Ron was annoyed.  
  
"You do know that you can tell me anything? Right? I'm mean, how can I be your best mate if you don't tell me when you have screamin' bloody nightmares!?"  
  
Harry apologized and Ron, of course, accepted it and everything between them was put to rights.  
  
* * *  
  
When they arrived in the entrance hall, Harry was pulled aside by his head of house. Professor McGonagall was looking at him in concern.  
  
"Yes professor?"  
  
"As long as there's nothing pressing on your mind, you will report to the headmaster's office directly after the feast."  
  
"Yes professor."  
  
"And potter,"  
  
"Yes professor?"  
  
"Do be careful. This isn't the first, nor, probably the last, time we've had someone of your persuasion at this school. It is always difficult, but we have always managed. It will require a tremendous amount of effort on your part, but I'm sure we'll manage."  
  
Without another word she turned and walked into the great hall. Harry followed her and was in his seat when the sorting hat started its song. He listened as it gave yet more warnings.  
  
"Back a thousand years or more,  
  
Four wizards had a dream.  
  
They lived and worked and tried to make  
  
That thing that they had seen.  
  
And when, at last, they were to die,  
  
They needed something more.  
  
So I was made to take their place  
  
And sort to the houses four.  
  
The sly and ambitious to Slytherin,  
  
Brave and valiant Gryffindors,  
  
Hufflepuffs, true and loyal,  
  
And Ravenclaws for lore.  
  
The animosity did grow  
  
'Twixt Godric and Salazar.  
  
And though the others tried to help  
  
They'd let it grow too far.  
  
The rift that had been torn 'tween them  
  
Was too large to be patched.  
  
One had to leave and ne'er return,  
  
He never even looked back.  
  
But as you know the time has come  
  
To fix this school for good,  
  
And do the thing that they had tried  
  
And failed, for only we could.  
  
And so to keep and save for now  
  
That which we value most,  
  
We must embrace our differences  
  
Or sadly, become toast."  
  
* * * *  
  
A/N: "'s " is supposed to stand for the sound "uz " when the first letter or sound in the word "was " is cut off. I modeled Jesse's speech off that of my aunt. You can laugh if you like. This mode of talking sounds great when I say it aloud before typing, but doesn't look so good on paper.  
  
I apologize if this seems at all slow to you, I just write that way. Well, I also just finished reading a fic that moved way too fast. One moment Harry and Draco are hating each others guts, they try to have a conversation, end up going into "aggressive negotiations" (star wars episode II attack of the clones), then suddenly they're getting very friendly indeed in a bedroom. It was too fast for my liking.  
  
One question. Is there someone reading this who lives in England (or at least that general area of Europe) or grew up there, who wouldn't mind being asked tons of questions about your daily life? Much as I'd like to, I've never been to Europe, in fact I live in Arizona and the furthest from home I've been is Montana. I've never even left the western United States, much less the country. Ah well, review please if you've got a moment. 


	9. chapter nine

Recap: "...But as you know the time has come to fix this school for good, and do the thing that they had tried and failed, for only we could. And so to keep and save for now that which we value most, we must embrace our differences, or, sadly, become toast."  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
When the song ended, the great hall filled with the sounds of applause and the whispers of students remarking on the last few lines.  
  
"Here we go again mate." Ron shook his head. Hermione made an attempt at relieving the feeling of worry that Ron's words inspired.  
  
"With any luck, we've all learned something from the last time that we were warned. This time the consequences should be very different." It didn't help.  
  
In an effort to distract himself, Harry let his eyes roam the room, seeking out familiar faces. He was seated at the backside of his table, so he had a clear view of most of the hall. With Professor McGonagal's voice in the background, Harry's eyes skimmed the other Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws, finally coming to rest on the Slytherins.  
  
Almost all of them were either glaring or smirking at the Gryffindors. However, Harry was pleased to note, there were a few who weren't. Blaise Zabini, for one, was giving them not an I-hate-your-guts-just-because- you're-insufferable-goody-goodies-who-have-a-soft-spot-for-filthy-muggles- and-mudbloods look, but more an I-dislike-your-insufferable-goody-goody- tendencies-but-respect-most-of-you-as-worthy-opponents kind of look.  
  
For another, Draco Malfoy, Ice prince of Slytherin, was staring at them. One corner of his mouth was pulled up slightly in a hateful sneer, but that sneer didn't reach his eyes. His eyes looked, in fact, as though Malfoy were sad. Harry blinked hard and... the look was gone. Malfoy was still sneering but his eyes were blank.  
  
"Jesse."  
  
Harry's head jerked to the front of the room. He was surprised, but not because he recognized a name. McGonagall had only said Jesse's first name. Come to think of it, Harry didn't even know her last name. If memory served him, she had never told them. He was jerked, once again, out of his musings when the sorting hat shouted  
  
"GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
There was applause as Jesse, the last of the students, sat down beside Ron, who was on Harry's right. She looked quite pleased and was about to say something, when the Headmaster stood. Every head turned to face him.  
  
"Welcome to a New Year at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. I have a few announcements to make before we all dive headfirst into this magnificent feast. First, I would like to welcome back Professor Sibyll Trelawney. She will be part-time teaching with last-year's final divination teacher, Mr. Firenze."  
  
Harry was staring at the man sitting at the end of the staff table. The man was rather tall and wearing a blood-red robe with the hood up. Due to the hood and the way the man was sitting (facing the Slytherins) they could not see his face at all.  
  
"Second, I am pleased to announce that this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts postion," the man stood up from his place at the end of the table. His face was visible and immediately Harry noticed the eyebrows and scowl, "will be held by none other than –"  
  
Hermione shrieked "Oh My God! Ron! Harry! It's –"  
  
"Victor Krum!"  
  
There was one moment of pure, shocked silence, and then the applause broke out. It was rather enthusiastic. After all, Krum was a world famous Quidditch player. But there was also a slightly reserved feeling. As far as anyone knew, all Krum could do was play Quidditch. There had never been much evidence that he was Professor-level in Defense against the Dark Arts.  
  
"And so, without further gilding the lily, and with no more ado, I say... on with the feast!"  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dinner passed slowly for Harry. For appearance's sake, he tried to eat. At some point last month he'd realized that he didn't need to, at least, not in the traditional sense. In fact, he'd started to enjoy not having to bother with the usual... inconveniences of the digestive track. The problem with this, of course, was that, with the exception of a few teachers and his best friends, no one knew about his vampirism and so, would look on him with suspicion or worry if they noticed that he wasn't eating.  
  
After an eternity, or so it seemed to Harry, the plates finally cleared and Dumbledore stood and signaled for their attention.  
  
"Just one more word before you all head off to bed. As most of you know, Voldemort has returned. Because of the increased activity of the dark side, curfew is nine 'o clock. Common room doors will be locked shortly thereafter and punishment will be severe for anyone caught out of bed after hours."  
  
At this there were moans and groans from many of the students. A rather annoyed voice stilled the moans at Harry's end of the table  
  
"At least you're not the ones patrolling." Hermione stood up and glared at them all. "And you won't be complaining half as loud when there's an attack on the school and no one's hurt because everyone was safely in their beds." It was only after this that she realized how loud she was speaking. Most of the hall was staring in her direction. She flushed bright red and sat down hurriedly. Dumbledore smiled.  
  
"Thank you, Mrs. Granger. You are quite right." He smiled all around the room.  
  
"On a more enjoyable note, house Quidditch tryouts will be staged next week. Also, I must inform the first years that the forest on the grounds is off limits, as is the village of Hogsmead to all without a legitimate pass. A number of our older students" he glanced at a few select Gryffindors (guess who), before continuing, "need to remember this as well. Our caretaker, Mr. Filch, would like me to remind you that magic is not allowed in the corridors between classes. Also, quite a number of products by the company 'Weasley's wizard wheezes' are, now, not permitted either. For the full list, check Mr. Filches door and when you reach the floor, knock and he will be glad to show you the rest of the list that wouldn't fit. With that, I bid you all a goodnight."  
  
There was applause for a few moments before every one stood up and moved toward the doors. With a muttered "catch you later, Dumbledore wants a word" Harry left his friends and made his way to the headmaster's office.  
  
About halfway there, somewhere near the "forbidden third floor corridor" Harry realised that he was being followed. Ducking into a niche behind a tapestry, Harry waited with bated breath for his stalker to appear. When the other boy stepped round the corner Harry pounced, pinned the boy, and put his wand to the boy's throat.  
  
At least, that's what would have happened had not the other boy shoved his wand into Harry's chest when Harry pinned him. For the second time that day, Harry stared at Malfoy in shock. It didn't last very long, however, due to that fact that Malfoy's wand was shoved painfully into Harry's chest.  
  
They rolled apart and carefully stood, brushing themselves off.  
  
"What do you want, Malfoy?"  
  
"None of your business Potter, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't jump me."  
  
They both glared for about a minute, before stomping off to their appointed destinations. As it turned out, Malfoy was going to the headmaster's office as well. Obviously though, he'd never actually been inside the office because he stood staring at the stone gargoyle in bewilderment. Harry smiled and stepped in front of him.  
  
"Cockroach clusters."  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
"Lemon drop."  
  
Still nothing.  
  
"Sherbet lemon."  
  
"Hey Potter, do you actually know the password, or are you just guessing?"  
  
Malfoy was smirking. Harry glared.  
  
"For your information, Malfoy, I'm making educated guesses. But, wait a minute, you wouldn't know what 'educated' means would you?"  
  
Harry smirked, Malfoy sneered.  
  
"And how, exactly, do you come to that conclusion, brave, brilliant, little 'hero'?"  
  
Malfoy smirked, Harry glared.  
  
"Your father once said, 'the company you keep, and I thought your family could sink no lower'. So, how's it feel, your daddy being the dark lord's bitch and all."  
  
Malfoy had gone very red with anger. Harry started to regret what he'd said.  
  
"You leave my father out of this and I'll leave out yours. After all, my father was strong enough to escape from the highest security prison know to wizard kind, while yours is six feet under."  
  
Their friendly argument had turned into an all out shouting match.  
  
"If your father's so perfect, then why'd he get landed there in the first place? Huh? Answer that, ferret boy! My dad at least lived an honest life and died to protect someone!"  
  
"Someone not worth protecting! My father only got in there thanks to you, and at least he knew enough to not piss off those stronger in magic than himself!"  
  
"True, I guess he is rather smart. He knows how to throw out garbage! Admit it! My parents at least cared about me!"  
  
"And look where it got them! You managed to kill your own parents!"  
  
That was too much. Within minutes they were in an all-out fistfight that took them to the ground. They were so preoccupied, they didn't notice that the gargoyle had moved until a spell ripped the two of them apart and dragged them up the stairs and into the headmaster's office.  
  
By the time they were dropped unceremoniously on the floor, they'd stopped trying to get at each other. They both looked sheepishly up at Dumbledore. He was not amused  
  
"If you two are unable to get within twenty feet of each other without attempting murder, you're certainly not going live through next week."  
  
Harry was puzzled. He looked over at Malfoy. Malfoy was puzzled.  
  
"Uh, sir?" Harry started to inquire, "we've been, uh, at odds with one another since first year. Why should our, erm, differences matter now?"  
  
Dumbledore looked deathly serious but Harry though he almost caught a twinkle in his headmaster's eyes.  
  
"Due to each of your own special circumstances, it's no longer safe, smart, or in any way practical to have you sleeping in your house dormitories. It is in the best interest of everyone for the two of you to have rooms separate from the rest of the students."  
  
Harry was getting nervous. The twinkle was definitely there.  
  
"And so, it is my duty to show you both to your new rooms."  
  
The twinkle was quite pronounced now. Harry didn't like the way the Dumbledore said that and he REALLY didn't like that twinkle. Glancing sideways, it appeared that Malfoy didn't much like it either. He was looking rather uneasy.  
  
"Follow me."  
  
Harry and Malfoy followed in silence.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Harry looked at Dumbledore in horror.  
  
"YOU expect US to practically SLEEP in the SAME ROOM as each other and LIVE through it!?!"  
  
Malfoy was looking exactly the same as Harry  
  
"Pardon me professor, but you must be even more dense than my father thought you were if you have ANY hope that these rooms will REMAIN in ONE PIECE with BOTH of us LIVING in them!"  
  
It seemed that the rooms Dumbledore had been talking about were actually connected. There was one larger room, done mostly in black with a touch of silver here and there and dark reds weaving through it until it was red and gold by the hearth, with one couch, and few chairs scattered about. There were also several landscape portraits of things like forests and night skies. At the back of the room, the wall started to go marble looking again. This time, the black was threaded through with dark, forest almost, green. There were three doors. The door on the far left had silver lettering spelling "Draco Malfoy". The door on the right was the same, but with Harry's name. The middle door was a bathroom with a Jacuzzi size bathtub.  
  
Ignoring their protests, the headmaster turned and left, shutting the portrait that guarded the entrance.  
  
Harry and Malfoy took one look at each other before sprinting to their rooms and slamming the doors. They had every intention of not talking ever again.  
  
Funny, how fate interferes with intention.  
  
*******  
  
Draco was flying. He loved flying. He was good at it too. He had thought he would be the best in his year. He hadn't reckoned on Potter. Draco was also good in school. He had thought he would be the best in his year. He hadn't reckoned on Granger. Every time he turned around, it seemed, a Gryffindor was waiting to mess something up. Life no longer held the same fun it had previously. He now had to work hard to be good at anything. He couldn't please his father if he wasn't good at everything.  
  
Even flying had lost it's joy, now that he had to work at that too. His father wasn't proud of him any more. Draco knew it instinctively. Every time his father saw him, Lucious would sneer slightly. And every time Lucious lectured him on how he wasn't good enough, Draco felt the waves of sadness emanating from behind the mask. Draco knew, every time, that he was letting his father down, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Anyway, back to Draco's flying.  
  
He knew he was dreaming, but he took great pleasure in the flying anyway. He was making great swoops through the air over the mountains near the manor. It was wonderful. He would fly high enough to touch the clouds and then he'd go into a dive for thirty, forty, fifty feet, straight down and just barely touch the treetops on the mountain. He'd had this type of dream before so he knew what was bound to happen. Still, he put it off as long as possible.  
  
Eventually though, he found himself drifting steadily nearer the manor. He knew that his father would be waiting when he touched down, and so he put that off as long as he could. When he finally did touch down, he found that he had been correct.  
  
Lucious was waiting for him, waiting to reprimand him for flying when he could have been studying. Draco took the lecture in silence. He took the insults about his intelligence with his head bowed in shame. And when the Cruciatis Curse came, as it always did in his dreams, he would bear it in silence as he had the one time his father had performed it on him.  
  
But it never came. Draco awoke just as his father raised the wand.  
  
Immediately, Draco knew something was wrong. He was out of bed, wand in hand, and almost to the door before he realized he was even awake. Coming to his senses a moment later (running into closed doors will do that to you) he realized that, if there were some kind of danger, he'd do best to be quiet.  
  
As quietly as possible, Draco inched open his door. He stepped lightly out, into the common room. For a minute or so, he carefully scanned the room. Nothing seemed amiss so he turned to go back to bed. At that moment, the slight feeling that something was wrong increased tenfold. He suddenly found himself standing in front of the door to Potter's room. Draco had one hand on the knob and, before he could stop himself, he'd opened Potter's door. The sight that met his eyes was not what he expected.  
  
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, Dumbledore's Golden Boy, the person that Draco had always envied, was, apparently, writhing in pain. His bed sheets were all twisted about his body, and his tossing and turning and writhing was doing no good whatsoever. His mouth was open, he appeared to be screaming at full lung power, though Draco could hear nothing. Wait, on second thought he took that back. He could hear, very faintly, the words "no, not him. Sirius. No. Not again. Leave them alone. They never hurt... no. Don't do it. Don't make me do it. Don't. No. Please don't."  
  
Now, most people believe that all Malfoys are cruel, sadistic, masochists, and that is true of a lot of them. Draco, however, felt some stirring deep in his chest and, before he knew it, he was standing next to Potter's bed. As soon as he leaned over the boy however, he jumped back in pain. Apparently there was some kind of silencing spell over the bed. Unfortunately for Draco, once inside the spell's range it no longer blocked Potter's screams. As Draco's cursing while rubbing his ears will attest, Potter had a very good set of lungs on him.  
  
After the ringing faded, Draco decided to wake up the boy without getting in the spell's range again. And so, he performed a spell which dumped a bucket of cold water on Potter's head.  
  
Or it should have.  
  
Instead, it simply poured the water all over Draco. Once soaked, Draco realized that there was also some kind of shield spell surrounding the bed. Well duh. Draco was about to give up and let Potter fight his nightmare out alone, after all, Potter hadn't shown ever COMMON COURTESY earlier that evening, when the boy started scratching fiercely at his body and hands. It would have been one thing to be scratching at his pajamas, but when the blankets slipped a little, Draco noticed that Potter wasn't wearing a shirt. Draco found himself admiring Potter's body. Potter looked... well damn! Quidditch definitely did him good!  
  
When Potter started bleeding, however, Draco stopped admiring.  
  
Bracing himself for the noise, and shoving all doubts and protests to the back of his mind, Draco leaned over Potter. Trying to ignore the deafening screams, Draco grasped the other boy's shoulders and shook him. Potter didn't wake, although he did stop screaming. Instead he whispered brokenly, "my fault, all my fault. Mum. Dad. My fault. Frank Bryce, Bertha Jorkins, my fault. Cedric, my fault. Sirius..." Potter began to sob as Draco held Potter's hands together, away from the bloody rivulets they were causing.  
  
"All their blood. On my hands. Sirius. God. Sirius. I kill everyone I love. My friends will go next. Torn to pieces."  
  
Potter was sobbing hard and Draco found himself overcome by something he didn't recognize. Draco was feeling compassion. Not knowing what else to do, Draco leaned over and gave Potter an awkward hug.  
  
At the comforting touch, Potter's eyes opened.  
  
Draco released him slowly. Potter looked at him curiously.  
  
"Malfoy? Are you all right?"  
  
Draco looked at him quizzically,  
  
"I should be asking you the same question."  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
A/N: sorry it took me so long. It's really late right now so I'll have to make this short. I've got the next chapter completely planned out so it should be up soon. Thanks to everyone who reviewed (especially those of you who offered to let me e-mail you).  
  
Sorry I can't make this longer, but I have school tomorrow, which means I need to be up at five-thirty. It really doesn't work when I go to bed at midnight or one. I'll post this tomorrow (Wednesday) and I'll sacrifice my lunch period so please be grateful (or at least not mad).  
  
One question. How do you do bold and italics?  
  
Thanks. 


	10. chapter ten

A/N: a series of Collins ":::::" indicates a switch in Pov or a jump in time.  
  
Recap: Not knowing what else to do, Draco leaned over and gave Potter an awkward hug. At the comforting touch, Potter's eyes opened. Draco released him slowly. Potter looked up at Draco curiously. "Malfoy? Are you all right?" Draco looked at him quizzically; "I should be asking you the same question."  
  
Chapter Ten  
  
As we go through life, many things surprise us. You might believe that something that happened to you is the most surprising thing possible. Perhaps you won a great award that you didn't think you deserved. Or perhaps you were thrown a surprise party and your best friend, of whom you haven't seen hide nor hair for three years because she lives two thousand miles away, greeted you at the door. There are bad surprises as well, like finding out that the pervert next door has a pair of binoculars and knows when you change clothes with your blinds open.  
  
However, looking back on it, we all realize (or should realize) that all of these things could have been predicted. You probably did deserve that award and, as for the party, if you looked hard enough, you would have noticed the conversations that ended much too quickly when you walked into the room. Plus, "just fetching some wine for dinner" shouldn't take the same amount of time as a trip to and from the airport when flights are delayed.  
  
And really, what do you expect from leaving your blinds open _while you're changing!  
_All in all, I think, we must concede that none of those things are more surprising than waking up in the arms of your archenemy.  
  
Unfortunately for him, that's exactly what Harry potter woke up to.  
  
He was so surprised and so oddly confused, that the only thing he could think to do was to ask Malfoy if he was all right. Malfoy looked at him quizzically.  
  
"I should be asking you the same question." Malfoy replied.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Malfoy cocked an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, for one, you were screaming loud enough to be heard over a silencing spell, which is damn near impossible. Two, you were sobbing very loudly. And three, well, look down." Harry did. Malfoy's pajama clad chest was spattered with blood. The same blood that was still running down his own chest. In an instant, Harry had shoved himself backward, away from Malfoy, off the bed, and on to the floor on the other side.  
  
:::::::  
  
Draco was startled at this sudden movement. Untangling himself from Potter's blankets, he started to stand to go see what was wrong with Potter and explain why... well... why Potter had woken up in that position. However, before Draco was fully upright, Potter's voice came from across the bed.  
  
"Malfoy! Don't move! Stay there!"  
  
Hearing the pain in the voice, Draco disregarded the words, stood anyway, and moved to the place where Potter had disappeared. What he saw there froze him solid in his tracks.  
  
:::::::  
  
When Harry fell backwards off the bed, he immediately curled up in a tight ball and started to rock back and forth, trying to control the blood lust. Unfortunately, for both he and Malfoy, it had been more than three days since Harry had last fed.  
  
Despite the pain of fighting off the blood lust when it was this strong, Harry still managed to yell at Malfoy to stay away. Maybe, just maybe, if he didn't see anyone else, if Malfoy stayed, he just might be able to...  
  
Malfoy stepped around the edge of the bed.  
  
Damn it.  
  
:::::::  
  
Draco looked down in horror. Potter was curled up in a tight ball, rocking back and forth, hair in his face, covered in blood. And there was something else...  
  
Potter had fangs.  
  
The instant Draco realized this, he backed away. That appeared to have been a bad idea, though, because Potter, obviously some kind of vampire, sprang to his feet. As Potter advanced, Draco noticed the twin flames of hunger dancing in Potter's eyes.  
  
Yep. Definitely a Vampire.  
  
Draco spun around and dashed through the bedroom door. He sprinted through the main room and into the bathroom. With the wand that was, amazingly, still in his hand, Draco performed every locking spell he knew. Forgoing all shreds of dignity, he hid, trembling with fear, behind the Jacuzzi- sized bathtub. It was only then that he realized something. Hiding would do no good. First of all, the vampire could find him simply by the blood on his shirt. And second of all, the walls were covered in mirrors.  
  
Oh shit.  
  
With a loud crash the door burst inwards. Apparently the vampire didn't care about wands. Knowing that the vampire could see him, Draco prepared to vault over the side of the tub when the vampire came around it.  
  
The vampire leapt straight over it instead. As it turns out, however, even vampires need practice. The vampire sailed right over Draco's head and landed in the shower. Not waiting to see if the vampire could get out (it had hit the wall and there was a large dent so it probably was a bit dazed) Draco dashed around the tub and into the main room.  
  
It was a good thing too. If Draco had been facing the shower when all the glass burst out, he would have sustained serious eye damage. As it was, he could feel the blood running down his neck and soaking the collar of his shirt.  
  
Damn. That vampire didn't need anymore encouragement.  
  
Once in the main room, Draco leapt over the longer of the two couches and ran for the door. Before he could make it, however, the vampire was in front of him. Draco wheeled around and headed for the nearest bedroom door, but, once again, the vampire cut him off.  
  
Knowing there was going to be no escape, Draco backed up into the center of the room. Desperate, he tried to use magic.  
  
_"Impedimenta!"_  
  
No effect.  
  
_"Stupefy!"_  
  
No effect.  
  
Spell after spell, Draco tried. None had much effect. It was only after he had run out of spells, that he remembered, from something his father told him once, that vampires couldn't be harmed by physical spells. All right then, he would risk Azkaban, he would try the only mental spell he knew.  
  
_"Imperio!"  
_  
The whole time Draco had been firing off spells, the vampire had been circling closer and closer with a smirk playing around its lips and maniac glint in it's eyes. Upon being hit with the Imperius curse it stopped and stood still.  
  
_Stay there_, Draco thought. _Stay right there_.  
  
"No thanks. " Replied the vampire. It could, apparently, throw off the Imperius curse.  
  
Damn it.  
  
Draco lunged at a nearby table, grabbed it, and held before him in a defensive position.  
  
When the vampire simply laughed, Draco knew he was in deep trouble.  
  
"You know, Draco, do you mind if I call you Draco?" the vampire laughed again. "No of course you don't mind. Well, you know, you wouldn't be in this position if you had paid attention to me back in my room. However, I can't say I'm displeased. I've only tasted wizard blood once before." There was an evil glint in the vampire's eyes that gave Draco the only warning he got, although, through the whole speech, the vampire's eyes seemed to show the smallest hint of internal struggle.  
  
Once more the vampire lunged and once more Draco dodged it, dropping the table. As he dodged, he came up against the back of the portrait guarding the entrance to the main room. It was at that moment that someone swung open the portrait.  
  
Draco fell backwards out of the room and landed hard on his arse in the corridor at his headmaster's feet.  
  
::::::::::::  
  
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry, holder of a whole list of important titles, and the only man Voldemort ever feared, knew something was wrong the moment he awoke.  
  
He had, once again, fallen asleep in his armchair. Both Poppy and Minerva had been lecturing him consistently for thirty some years about this.  
  
Anyway, Dumbledore knew to trust his instincts and so he carefully stood up and walked to the edge of his candle-lit office. He soon reached a specific silver instrument, bent down and fiddled with it for a moment before straitening and staring into a crystal ball at the top of the instrument. Silver clouds swirled in it for another moment, before condensing into a picture. Within the space of three seconds after the picture solidified, Dumbledore was walking briskly past the great stone gargoyle that guarded his quarters.  
  
Really, Harry could have told him that he needed to feed tonight.  
  
::::::::::  
  
As soon as Draco realized whose feet they were, _he_ was on _his_ feet and behind Dumbledore. As Dumbledore walked into the common room, Draco made sure to keep the headmaster between the vampire and himself. This proved unnecessary as said headmaster, upon seeing the vampire, muttered something and silver coils shot out of the end of his wand and wrapped around the vampire, completely incapacitating him.  
  
As the vampire struggled feebly on the floor, Dumbledore turned to Draco. There was a twinkle in the man's eyes as he reached into his robes.  
  
"I imagine tonight's been rather a shock for you?" Draco nodded, but then quickly stopped at the pain in his head. Dumbledore looked at him with worried eyes and gestured for him to turn around. Draco did so and, with a wave and whispered spell, Draco felt the pain disappear.  
  
"Now, if you'll sit down for a moment, I need to tend to Mister Potter."  
  
Draco nodded once more and, after righting a capsized stool, sat down to watch the proceedings.  
  
Dumbledore propped the still struggling vampire against the back of a couch. Removing something, it resembled a quaffle, from his robes, the headmaster forced the vampire's head up. After a muttered spell, the silver coils around the vampire's mouth disappeared. However, before the vampire could so much as take a breath (not that it needed to, being undead and all) the quaffle-like thing was forced against the bared fangs.  
  
As its fangs pierced the ball, the vampire's face relaxed into an expression of ecstasy. It was only then that Draco realized that the face had been contorted in pain.  
  
Merlin, he was glad he wasn't a vampire.  
  
As the ball deflated, the person draining it was once more recognizable as Potter. The look of hatred and hunger that signified the vampire was gone. The emerald eyes no longer burned with green flames and, when the completely deflated ball was removed, Draco watched in fascination as the fangs retracted and Potter licked his lips to remove any traces of blood, for blood it surely had been. He was startled out of his staring by Potter's voice.  
  
"Uh, Headmaster? You can let me free now."  
  
With a wave, the silver coils vanished. Harry stood gingerly, wincing at the stinging from the cuts all over his chest. Dumbledore looked pityingly at him before walking to the hearth.  
  
"The house elves will not come in here, for their own saftey, except when the two of you are in lessons. As such, you will have to deal with the fire mostly on your own._ Incendio_."  
  
Dumbledore reached into his robes again and retrieved a pinch of floo powder, which he threw into the now blazing fireplace. The flames roared up green.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey's Office." Dumbledore stated as he shoved his head in. After a few moments, he pulled it back out. Shortly there after Madam Pomfrey emerged with a bottle of pink stuff. As soon as she caught sight of Harry, she shoved him down, into a couch and proceeded to rub pink stuff all over his chest, completely ignoring his protests.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey. Madam Pomfrey! MADAM POMFREY!" she glared at him.  
  
"Yes Potter? I can hear quite well you know."  
  
"It's just," Harry started to blush, "I can do this myself, thank you." She ignored him and he was starting to put up with her when she noticed the blood seeping through his pajama bottoms.  
  
"Those'll have to come off dear." She said as she moved lower. Harry squeaked and jumped up, out of her reach. Dumbledore chuckled.  
  
"Poppy, it would be better if you gave him the bottle and let him do it himself."

Draco was fighting hard not to laugh as a brilliantly pink Harry took the bottle and walked stiffly to the bathroom. Dumbledore, eyes twinkling, muttered a swift incantation and the rooms righted themselves.  
  
"Now, Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore turned to him after Harry returned (covered in pink paste that, again, nearly made Draco burst out laughing) and Madam Pomfrey had left, "Do you care to enlighten us as to the exact details of what happened here tonight?"  
  
"Alright."  
  
Harry started to protest but, at a look from Dumbledore, he was quiet.  
  
"Harry, I will give you a chance to explain your side after Mister Malfoy gives his."  
  
Draco couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. Clearly Harry thought Draco was going to lie about something, although Draco couldn't, for the life of him, think what that might be.  
  
"Draco, if you would be so kind." Dumbledore smiled at him. Carefully not looking at Potter, Draco started talking.  
  
"Well, Professor Dumbledore, sir, after you left we split up without talking. Then, about half an hour ago, I woke up. I thought something was wrong so I checked my room and this room sir. I then checked Potter's room."  
  
"Why, did you check Mister Potter's room?"  
  
"I don't know sir." Potter gave a derisive snort. "Honestly, sir, I found myself at his door and before I truly thought I had opened his door." Draco stopped to collect his thoughts and organize his feelings about when he had gone into that room.  
  
"What did you see, Draco?"  
  
"Potter," and now he rather tentatively met Harry's eyes. Wait a moment! When had Draco stated to think of Potter as 'Harry'? Filing this odd turn of events away for future reference, Draco continued. Harry, no, Potter's eyes betrayed nothing. "Potter, you were twisting around and screaming. I could hear you past the silencing charm-" Dumbledore interrupted. Looking at Har- Potter Dumbledore asked quickly  
  
"What silencing charm?" Harry went to his bedroom and came back out with a carved wooden cross, which he handed to Dumbledore.  
  
"Hermione gave it to me this summer, after I told her about..." he trailed off, looking at Draco, who got the hint and continued on with his story.  
  
"I could tell that Potter was having a night mare and I tried to wake him up. I tried to pour water on him using magic but there was some kind of shield spell." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he realized why Draco had been so... damp when he fell into the hall.  
  
"Potter started scratching at his hands and chest and they started bleeding. I tried one more time to... shake him awake. It worked, but when he saw the blood he fell off the bed. I-" this time it was Potter who interrupted.  
  
"I did not fall, I deliberately pushed myself away to keep from changing and it would have worked fine if you had stayed on that side of the bed when I told you to!!"  
  
"I thought you were hurt or something and I thought it was my fault!! What else could I do!?!"  
  
Harry stared in shock.  
  
"You wha-!"

Dumbledore interrupted  
  
"Please. Harry. Let Mister Malfoy finish his tale." Draco took a breath. He hadn't meant to say that.  
  
"When I walked around the bed, he was curled up but I could see his face. I saw the fangs, backed up, caught his attention, and he chased me." Dumbledore's eyes were still twinkling.  
  
"How did your injuries come about?"  
  
"At one point, we were in the bathroom and Harry had jumped into the shower stall. As I was running with my back to him, Harry broke out and glass went flying."  
  
"Is that all, Draco?"  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"Harry, I'd like you to tell me your version of events. Start with your dream." Harry visibly paled. He took a deep breath and started.  
  
"It was just a nightmare, headmaster, I don't remember most of it." Both Dumbledore and Draco knew Harry was lying. Draco gave a derisive snort, but the headmaster let it be.  
  
"Continue, Harry."  
  
"Well, when I woke up..." Harry looked at Draco, then deliberately left out the whole... hugging thing "I asked Malfoy why he was there and he told me to look down. When I saw the blood, I pushed myself backwards, off the bed, away from him. I tried to fight it but I hadn't fed for a bit." Seeing Dumbledore about to ask a question, and knowing what that question would be, Harry continued.  
  
"Honestly Professor, I completely forgot about feeding when I came to Hogwarts. Anyway, I told Malfoy to stay away, which he didn't, and the sight of something living, something breathing, something with a beating heart, a heart sending sweet blood throughout their body... I couldn't take it. I, how did Hermione put it? Oh yes. She said 'When the blood lust is upon you that strongly, you cease to be Harry Potter and you become The Vampire.' That was how she put it." He turned to Draco.  
  
"Look, Malfoy, I'm sorry for that. I tried to fight it. I just couldn't. I wasn't strong enough. I think I should have told you, given you some warning. It wasn't right of me to keep a secret like that when we're living in such close quarters. My only excuse is that we are enemies and I didn't want you to know anymore about me than could be helped. I'm sorry."  
  
At that point, Draco made a decision. Looking to the headmaster for confirmation, he saw Dumbledore nod.  
  
"I think I'll leave you two to it. Don't stay up too late now, you both have classes in the morning. Goodnight."  
  
And with that, he left. Harry immediately turned to Draco.  
  
_Damn it,_ Draco thought, _I'm calling him Harry again._ Ah well.  
  
"Malfoy? What was that look you shared with the headmaster?"  
  
Draco took a deep breath.  
  
"What would you say, Potter, if I told you I had a secret that was as big, if not bigger, than yours?"  
  
Harry gave him a contemplative look.  
  
"I'd say, get talking."  
  
::::::::::::::::::  
  
A/N: Hi every body! Sorry it took so long. School, traveling, friends, and a boyfriend got in the way of this chapter. Now, however, school's out, I'm home, my boyfriend's on a six week trip :( and I'm grounded from my friends.  
  
The next chapter (draco's secret) should be up soon. Thanks for reading, and Review!  
  
Please & Thankyou,  
  
-Leif


	11. chapter eleven

Recap: Draco took a deep breath. "What would you say, Potter, if I told you I had a secret that was as big, if not bigger, than yours?" Harry gave him a contemplative look. "I'd say, get talking."  
  
Chapter Eleven  
  
"All right, but you have to swear not to tell anyone, not even Weasel and the Mud-" Harry cut him off angrily.  
  
"Don't call them that! If you want to have a conversation with me, at least call my friends by their surnames." Draco sighed exasperatedly, looking at the glaring boy-who-lived.  
  
"_Alright_. You have to swear not to tell Granger and Weasley or anyone else. I don't want the whole of Gryffindor house to know. Clear?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Swear it, Potter." Harry sighed and placed a hand over his heart.  
  
"I swear, Malfoy, on my honor as a Gryffindor, that I will to no one repeat that which you are about to tell me. Satisfied?"  
  
Draco nodded.  
  
"Then please, get on with your tale."  
  
Draco took one last breath, the last before the plunge.  
  
"Where to begin, where to begin. I guess it really starts with my name...  
  
:::::::::::  
  
In the Malfoy family it has long been believed that pureblood wizards are superior to all other creatures and Malfoys, superior to all other purebloods. This belief of superiority is caused, indirectly, by their appearance. The Malfoy family has always, at least as long as anyone can tell, been light skinned with very fair hair and a rather delicate build. As with many things in the wizarding world, there's more to that than meets the eye.  
  
Here's another hint to the family secret. One of the few families the Malfoy's ever had much respect for was the Black family. Yes the Blacks were wealthy, pureblood, and deeply immersed in the dark arts, but so were many other families. There is another reason the Malfoys respected the Blacks. You see, the Blacks, in addition to producing a fair amount of Metamorphmagi, have always had great aptitude at the magics needed to become Animagi. In essence, the Blacks were very good at changing their appearances, something that the Malfoys knew only too much about.  
  
J. R. R. Tolkien once wrote, "White... serves as a beginning. White cloth can be dyed. The white page can be overwritten..." It is very easy to change the color white. Also, it is much easier to mold something over, if that thing is smaller and light. Last, when you are involved in something that you believe is worthy of admiration, don't you also respect those working around you?  
  
With only these three things, guessing the secret is rather difficult. But those who need to know have always been told. As Draco Malfoy's great- grandfather once said, "If you satisfy the curiosity before it has a chance to become curiosity, there are no bothersome hints being dropped, no irritating sideways glances, no constant prodding, and things are generally a great deal less confusing. Of course, when the curiosity in question is your mate's, it also saves time for more enjoyable activities." As it turns out, Draco had only heard the first part of that quote, so he could look Harry strait in the eye without blushing as he explained.  
  
"All of the Malfoys, as far back as we have records of, have been party to one, specific trait. We are all shape-shifters."  
  
Harry just stared, so Draco continued.  
  
"At the age of sixteen, we gain the potential to shift. The actual ability, however, doesn't come until we are forced into our first shape." Harry raised a questioning eyebrow.  
  
"Oh, do let me guess, not being native to the wizarding world, you've never heard of shape-shifters. You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" Harry nodded the affirmative.  
  
"Basics first then. After the age requirement is reached, there needs to be a violent... emotional upheaval. The emotions trigger the first shape. A shape-shifter has multiple shapes, unlike an Animagus, but the first time in a particular shape occurs similar to a werewolf's transformation. I assume you know about that after our dearly departed Defense teacher?" Harry glared but growled out a "yes". Draco decided that, being as Harry was a vampire, it was in his own self interest to refrain, as much as possible, from insulting the boy's friends.  
  
"Well... it's like that. We have no choice about where or when the first times occur. The moon does not govern the transformations, but they do occur monthly until we have visited every shape. After the first time, we can change into that form at will. I currently have two forms. The reason I needed my own rooms is because we can be quite dangerous when we're learning to control a new shape."  
  
Draco waited for Harry to say something, but the boy took his sweet time about it.  
  
"Well, Malfoy, that was unexpected."  
  
The silence fell again and it grew almost to the point of being unbearable before Potter broke it.  
  
"I guess what this means is that we will have to, horrible as it will undoubtedly be, work together to some extent. I mean, we both are a danger to each other even without the normal... difficulties." Draco looked at him curiously.  
  
"What are you proposing?"  
  
Potter looked thoughtful for a moment.  
  
"An armistice." He finally stated.  
  
Draco considered this for a moment before extending his hand. Potter grasped it with his own and shook.  
  
"Agreed."  
  
It was the weirdest thing, but Draco could have sworn he felt a small shock when they made contact. Oh well, all wizardly problems could wait for the morning. In the meanwhile, as Dumbledore had said, they had classes tomorrow.  
  
With a final curt nod, Draco and Potter headed to their respective bedrooms and fell into bed, barely managing to strip their sweat-and-blood-soaked pajamas, let alone put on clean ones. It's a good thing (or bad, depending on how you view it) that neither of them sleepwalks.  
  
In the hearth, the fire burned on, forgotten.  
  
::::::::::::::::::  
  
The following morning, Ron and Hermione were waiting, worriedly, outside the Great Hall doors for Harry. By the time he reached the base of the stairs they were on him.  
  
"Where were you?"  
  
"Yeah mate, how come you never came back?"  
  
"We were worried!!"  
  
"We went to the headmaster."  
  
"But he said you were fine."  
  
"Bloody great prat."  
  
"Ronald Weasley!! You take that back!!"  
  
"But Hermione! That's all he would tell us!!"  
  
"He told us to ask Harry."  
  
"But he wouldn't tell us where Harry was!"  
  
"He said we didn't need to know until the morning."  
  
"What kind of answer is that!?! I mean, he could have at least let us owl Harry or something."  
  
Harry cut in before Hermione could retort.  
  
"Guys! Guys. I'm fine, I'll explain it all to you later but now can we please go eat?" Harry didn't need nor want to eat of course, but he really didn't want to stand at the bottom of the stairs all morning either. With a little more grumbling, they headed through the doors and to their usual seats, Harry separating the other two.  
  
Partway through breakfast, which Harry was mostly just pushing around on his plate to make it look eaten, the mail arrived. Shortly afterwards, McGonagall passed out their class schedules. Harry groaned.  
  
"Potions first thing. This is going to be a great day."  
  
Hermione glared at him.  
  
"You know, it's not anyone's fault but your own. If you weren't so set on being an Auroar, you wouldn't be with me in that class at all." Harry looked at her, puzzled.  
  
"But you're not trying to be an Auroar, are you? Why are you taking potions?"  
  
Hermione muttered something Harry couldn't hear. Ron, it seemed however, could. He burst out laughing. Harry glared at his friends.  
  
"Come on, what's so funny? What's Hermione trying?"  
  
Ron managed to subdue his laughter but the moment he tried to speak, it erupted again. Hermione glared at Ron with a peculiar mixture of anger and embarrassment before answering Harry's question.  
  
"Well, if you must know, I'm considering being..." she trailed off again. Harry gave her a hard look.  
  
"Oh alright! I want to be a medi-witch! Happy now!?!"  
  
Poor Ron was now laughing so hard he wasn't making a sound but there were tears pouring down his face and he was practically sobbing for breath.  
  
"Oh honestly!" Hermione said and she started to get up, fully intending to storm out of the great hall, but Harry's arm stopped her.  
  
"What's a medi-witch? And why does Ron find it so funny?"  
  
Hermione looked incredulous.  
  
"You don't know? It's not a very common profession nowadays, I'll admit, but it's mentioned in just about every book that talks about the war with Vol-" Hermione gulped "Voldemort."  
  
Harry glared.  
  
"Hermione! You know I haven't read any of that sort of thing!"  
  
Hermione looked surprised.  
  
"You haven't? Ooooh, Harry, you should. You really should. I mean, what with him being back and another war about to start, it would be smart."  
  
Harry felt a little guilty at that. He still hadn't told Ron and Hermione about the prophecy.  
  
"Okay, Hermione, I'll read about it eventually, but in the mean time, please tell me?" Harry looked at her with puppy dog eyes.  
  
Hermione really wanted to force him to actually read, but no one can fight the puppy dog eyes of the boy who lived.  
  
"_Alright_. I give up. You know what a Healer is right?" Harry nodded. "Well a medi-witch is basically a Healer. They have most of the same training except that they specialize more in trauma. In a war, Medi-witches and wizards do everything from heading out onto the battle field and bringing the wounded to safety, to setting up a Mobile Any-patient Spell-damage Hospital, or M.A.S.H. Once the victims are stabilized, they are sent to St. Mungoes or whatever place is closest. They save hundreds of lives in every battle." Harry still didn't get what was so funny about that, so he asked.  
  
"Hermione, what about that is funny or embarrassing? It's saving lives. I don't get it. What is there to laugh about?"  
  
Hermione sighed.  
  
"The uniforms. See, the reason it says 'Any-patient' is because, in the field of battle, we don't discriminate. If the war is between, British wizards and, say, French wizards, British Medi-witches will try to save French wizards too. The same goes for any other group of wizards. Once on the field, we have no nationality. Because the opposing side of wizards knows we will help theirs fighters too, they won't curse us. However, in the middle of a battle, there's not likely to be time to ask if your enemy is going to curse you or bandage your broken leg. You have to be able to tell, automatically, if they mean you harm. Due to this, we have uniforms." Hermione grimaced.  
  
"This is the embarrassing part. They are white with vertical hot-pink stripes and horizontal neon-purple stripes. It's definitely not the most dignified outfit ever. The whole point though, is that we could never be mistaken for anyone else. Every wizard or witch around the world, before going into battle, is told what a medi-witch or wizard looks like. There is an actual international law that states we are not to be harmed. There have only been three times in recorded history, that a medi-witch or wizard was deliberately attacked. All three times, the person who cast the spell was literally torn apart by his or her friends and enemies alike."  
  
Harry looked admiringly at Hermione, then turned to Ron.  
  
"I really don't see what is so funny. After all, if you're dying on a battlefield, surrounded by the sounds of people screaming their death screams, I doubt you'd laugh even if Gilderoy Lockhart dressed as a moose in a pink tutu came up to help you." That shut Ron up.  
  
Harry turned to Hermione.  
  
"I respect your choice."  
  
Hermione stared at him as if she was looking at a particularly interesting puzzle.  
  
"You've changed, Harry."  
  
Harry gave a sad smile. If there was one thing he needed to learn this year, it was Occlumancy. He really didn't want to see the images of death and destruction Voldemort loved so much.  
  
"Yes, I suppose I have."  
  
::::::::::::  
  
After breakfast, when the tables had been cleared, all of the sixth year students were to be found with their schedules and career information spread out on the tables. Dumbledore and the heads of houses (McGonagall, Snape, Sprout and Flitwick) were still up at the head table with papers out.  
  
Harry, much to his embarrassment, had missed the large box at the top of his schedule that stated, quite clearly, that there was to be an hour long planning period before their classes started, to make sure they were taking the proper classes to pursue their career path.  
  
Harry was in a state of bewilderment the first time he looked at his schedule. He didn't know that some of the classes on it were even taught at Hogwarts. His schedule for that week (it was Thursday) went as follows.  
  
**_Thursday:_**

8:00 Planning

9:00 Potions

10:45 Transfiguration

12:30 _lunch_

1:30 Wand-less magic

3:15 Charms

5:00 Defense Against the Dark Arts

9:00 Occlumancy  
  
_**Friday:**_

8:00 History of Magical Creatures

10:00 Herbology

12:00 _lunch_

1:00 Care of Magical Creatures

3:00 Potions

5:00 Transfiguration

11:00 Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts  
  
Ron looked over at Harry's schedule and did a double take. He tugged Hermione's sleeve. She turned to him, angrily.  
  
"What is it Ron! I'm _trying_ to organize my schedule here, and it's easiest without you hanging off my sleeve."  
  
Ron ignored this in favor of pointing out Harry's odd classes. Hermione simply shrugged.  
  
"Well, he's a little different from most of the students here. There are things he needs to learn that aren't part of the regular curriculum." She said before turning back to her schedule.  
  
Harry couldn't see anything wrong (other than the odd classes) with his schedule so he and Ron went over the redhead's. Ron's was like this.  
  
_**First Thursday:**_

8:00 Planning

9:00 Divination

10:45 Transfiguration

12:30 _lunch_

1:30 free

3:15 Charms

5:00 Defense Against the Dark Arts  
  
_**First Friday:**_

8:00 History of Magic

10:00 Herbology

12:00 _lunch_

1:00 Care of Magical Creatures

3:00 Divination

5:00 Transfiguration

11:00 Astronomy  
  
Apparently, Ron passed fewer classes last year than he had time for this year. The subject of passing classes introduced the subject of OWLs. Harry realized, with a start, that he hadn't seen his result. After he told Hermione this, she scoffed.  
  
"Well really, how absent minded can you get. Your results were on a separate sheet of paper in the envelope with your letter. _Accio_."  
  
A few moments later, the envelope with Harry's Hogwarts letter came soaring into Hermione's hand. Upon opening it, she beamed at Harry.  
  
Once he saw the piece of paper, he grinned too. He had gotten an O or E in everything except History of Magic (a), Divination (p) and Astronomy (p).  
  
:::::::::::::  
  
Just before nine, Harry and Hermione found themselves in a flat out run to get to Potions. After their schedules had been taken care of, the three Gryffindors had decided to spend the last half-hour walking around the lake.  
  
It hadn't been very pleasant, however. After about ten minutes of walking in an uncomfortable silence, an argument had broken out. See, Hermione had somehow convinced Ron to take another class during his one free period, and now he wasn't pleased to say the least. As the one class was Muggle Studies, Harry could see why.  
  
The argument had lasted until they all realized that they had seven minutes to get to their next class. Within five seconds they had all yelled their own version of "Shit!" and they were off. With thee minutes to spare, they reached the entrance hall. Splitting up, Ron headed for North tower and the Divination class he was certainly going to be late for while Harry and Hermione aimed for the dungeons where a loss of at least fifty points was promised if the couldn't make it.  
  
With about ten seconds to spare, Harry and Hermione staggered through the door into the lair of the Potions Master. Both of them were flushed, breathing in sharp painful gasps, and clutching stitches.  
  
"Potter, Granger, how nice of you to join us." Came the voice of said Potions Master. "However, as you two are three minutes late for your first class of the year, I think thirty points is a reasonable amount to loose."  
  
At any other time, Harry would have said something or at least glared at Snape for his unfairness. Now though, he and Hermione simply fought to not faint or be sick. You see, the caretaker had been cleaning the floor in the corridor near a set of stairs that lead downward, and when two members of "the golden trio" came barreling down the staircase above, they found themselves unable to stop, an ended up skidding two stair cases lower than originally planned. If you asked, both would agree that they had never run farther or faster in their entire lives.  
  
Due, in part, to their timely arrival, Potions was a disaster. By the end of it, Gryffindor had lost sixty points and there were only three Gryffindors in the class. Hermione, Harry and... Neville.  
  
Next however, was Transfiguration. Once again, every thing he learned the previous year had leaked out over the summer. This time it was understandable. Becoming a vampire would take precedence over tap dancing bananas any day.  
  
After lunch, the golden Trio split up for the only classes that were entirely separate. Hermione headed for Arithmancy, Ron for Muggle studies (much to his displeasure) and Harry to Wand-less magic. To his immense surprise, his schedule directed him to the headmaster's office. As he stood in front of the stone gargoyle and argued for it to let him pass, he wondered what was waiting behind that door.  
  
:::::::::::  
  
A/N: I'm so sorry I left you with a cliffhanger for so long. I needed my copy of the fifth book to deal with the career stuff, and I'd lent it to a friend. I'm so sorry. Then, when I finally got this written, wouldn't let me click "browse" to get it from the computer to the net.  
  
What is the plural form of "magus"? I've been saying "magi" but I don't know. My apologies if I've spelled the plural forms of "animagus" and "metamorphmagus" incorrectly.  
  
I'm warning you for later chapters, I believe that Sirius truly did die, he's not (or shouldn't) come back in later books. I cry at books and movies, so I cried over Sirius and accepted it. In my opinion, he's with James and Lily now. I've believed this ever since I saw a livejournal icon. It was a black starred sky with one star brighter that the rest, looking like it was the blinding white light at the end of the tunnel. To the side, in white writing was:  
  
Mr. Prongs

Would like to welcome

Mr. Padfoot

Home.  
  
Basically, I'm not resurrecting Sirius, just thought you'd like to know that.  
  
Once again, I'm sorry. I'll try to have the next chapter up soon.  
  
SorryPlease&ThanYou  
  
-Leif


	12. chapter twelve

Recap: Hermione headed for Arithmancy, Ron for Muggle studies (much to his displeasure) and Harry to Wandless magic. To his immense surprise, his schedule directed him to the headmaster's office. As he stood in front of the stone gargoyle and argued for it to let him pass, he wondered what was waiting behind that door.

Chapter 12

He soon found out.

The password, as it turned out, was "ton-tounge-toffe". Upon knocking and opening the door at the top of the stairs, Harry found the headmaster waiting for him.

"Ah, yes. Harry. Do sit down. Would you care for a lemon drop?" Harry politely declined and sat on the sofa in front of the headmaster's desk. Dumbledore smiled and popped one of the candies into his mouth.

As Dumbledore dealt with his candy and stared at Harry, Harry looked around the room. He hadn't had much time to study it on his previous visit, so he did so now. The office was much the same as it had been on his last visit the past year. The only differences were a few new instruments that had replaced the irreparable ones Harry had destroyed. After a few moments, Dumbledore, having finished his lemon drop, spoke.

"Alright Harry, I imagine you would very much like to know what this class is and why you're taking it."

"Yes professor."

"Well, to start off, wandless magic is just what it says, magic without a wand. While almost all magical beings with the ability to use a wand have this type of magic, after all, you didn't jump on to the roof of the kitchens or turn your teacher's wig blue using a wand, very few witches or wizards are able to master this ability."

Harry had a question already.

"Excuse me sir, if you don't mind?"

"Not at all."

"It's just that, isn't seeing wandless magic? I mean, we don't cast spells over our crystal balls."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Quite right. Seeing is a type of wandless magic. It is not, however, the type you will be learning. Ever since the incident just before your third year when you inflated your aunt, I have thought that there was a good chance that you would able to master another type of wandless magic. This type uses the spells you know already but without the wand." Before Harry could get in his next question, Dumbledore answered him.

"Lord Voldemort cannot use wandless magic. Once, before the night in Godric's Hollow, he could. But that particular gift, magic without the aid of a wand, occurs solely because of the body. Wizards have been studying it for a long time but we still aren't sure why. We believe it reacts to the magic of the parents, but we don't know. At any rate, Voldemort cannot now use it in his new body. If you can, all the better."

And so, Harry began his training in wandless magic.

There were one or two other interesting things that occurred that day. First, they all had Defense against the Dark Arts that afternoon. Their new Professor surprised them all.

"Put avay your books. All you vill be needing is your quill and parchment for the taking of notes."

Quickly, the class complied. There were five, four person long tables in the classroom. They were arranged with two in the front-most row, two in the middle row, and one in the back. The two front-most tables were about as far apart as possible, with the next two only half as far apart and the last table in the middle, such that there was a large, V shaped area in the center of the classroom. Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in the front row on one side of the classroom with Neville. At the mirror table on the other side, sat Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini. Lavender, Pavarti, Jesse and the remaining Gryffindor girl sat behind Harry with the table on the opposite side holding Pansy Parkinson and all the Slytherin Girls save Millicent Bullstrode who was sat at the back table with Dean, Sheamus and Theodore Nott. Needless to say, none of those four were pleased with the seating arrangements.

"Thank You. First, I vould like to take the roll, then I vill tell you vy _I_ am having this job." Krum then proceeded to read off names and, Harry noticed, he took a few seconds after every name to stare at that person, apparently trying to fix their face to memory.

"Vonce again, thank you. To begin, it vould be all right if you were to call me Krum or Victor. I believe I am too close to your own ages to be called 'Professor'. You may still call me that if that is vot you are vishing, but I vill not force it on you.

You are all probably vondering vy I am your new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, right? Vell, I vill tell you. After I left school, I decided to travel the vorld. It ended up vith my staying in the United States of America, in an area called Texas, for a year and a half. During my travels and the time vich I spent in Texas, I learned much about the magic in this vorld. That, coupled vith my schooling at Durmstrang, made me a very good candidate for this position. It also happens, that I vas the only candidate as everyone else is thinking this position vas jinxed." Everyone laughed at that.

"I am understanding, from notes left by other professors, that you haff covered many magical creatures. You haff also covered many curses in your fourth year. Some of you, the headmaster says, covered even more last year in your DA. Am I correct?" The Gryffindors nodded. The Slytherins scowled.

"Vell, this year, I plan for you to learn about the more complex dark creatures, the part human kinds. You know the vons. Vampires, verevolves, shape-shifters, veelas, giants, dementors, trolls and others. These are the vons you vill haff to deal vith in later life. Ve vill start with verevolves as you already know something about them. Vonce I believe you all know enough about them, I vill invite Professor R. J. Lupin to join us for a few classes."

The rest of the period was spent taking notes on what Krum told them about werewolves. It was mostly just review stuff about the basic physical characteristics, but Krum assured them that, if they were all able to answer the questions he asked the following day, they would be able to get into the mental part of the werewolf.

Two other interesting things happened that day.

After dinner, at about 8:00, Harry, Ron and Hermione headed for their common room. Upon entering (Harry was killing time before Occlumancy and Hermione was preparing for ancient runes, Ron was free) Harry was ambushed by the Creevey Brothers and most of the fifth, sixth, and seventh years. Through the shouting, applause and backslapping, Harry understood that he had been made Quidditch Captain. There was a note from McGonagall asking Harry to contact here with the date for the tryouts. After a quick conversation with the remaining team members, Harry decided to hold tryouts that Saturday, as they needed to start practicing as soon as possible.

The last thing, was Occlumancy. The surprise waiting for him in there was greater than any other surprise that day.

You see, when Harry knocked and entered the Potions Master's office, sitting in a chair in front of the desk, speaking to Snape... was Malfoy.

::::::::::::: A/N: I wish I'd added this on to the previous chapter and made this next part the start of this chapter. Oh well::::::::::::::::::::::

"Potter. At last. Do come in, we're late as it is."

Harry glanced at Snape's clock in time to see it change to 9:01.

"Don't just stand there, come in. Now, Potter."

Harry, very warily, stepped into the office. With a single scathing glance at Harry, who leaned against the wall in the corner furthest from Snape, The potions master resumed his conversation with Malfoy.

"I will perform _Legilimens _on each of you separately and when you, Mr. Malfoy, have gained enough experience at repelling me, you will be allowed to perform it on Potter."

Harry did not like the sound of that.

He found out later, that he was quite right to dislike having Malfoy present during his Occlumancy sessions. It appeared that Snape was even more caustic when he had an audience with which to smirk at Harry.

The main problem was, though, that while Malfoy would emerge from the spell perfectly fine, with no sense of even being ruffled, Harry would have to fight his way out and would usually end up either on his knees or, sometimes, face first on the floor.

He didn't understand it.

He needed to talk to Hermione.

That first night, Harry and Malfoy walked back to their rooms without comment, prepared for bed without comment and as little interaction as possible, and fell into their separate beds without comment.

Seeing as his barriers were weak from the previous hour, Harry dreamt again.

He was riding on an owl again. As with the dream in divination, they sailed through the window, the owl dropped a letter, and the owl sailed out again. Harry looked around, waved his wand, and the letter rose into his long pale hands. He opened it,

_My Master,_

_I have re-established my previous relations and have put those relations in their place. Your present was difficult and has been edited as such. I eagerly await your next command._

_Your most devoted servant_

He placed the letter on the desk in front of him and reached into a drawer by his right hand. Pulling out a piece of parchment, a quill and an inkbottle, he quickly drafted a response.

_My servant, _

_If my present is more than you expected, view it as less. It is nowhere in your vicinity. I will deal with it when the time comes. I tire of my current entertainment, my present will... increase the appeal. Do nothing save await my next command._

_Your Lord_

Harry snapped his fingers and, a few seconds later, a dark gray owl, the sort that blends in anywhere in the late hours of the night, appeared.

"_Crucio. _" The owl had taken too long.

After a moment, he ended the spell and tied the letter to the owl's leg.

"Malfoy Manor." He almost-hissed in his harsh, high, cold voice. The owl flew, shakily, out the still-open window.

Harry turned to the mirror beside the desk. His red eyes glared back at him.

"Sleep well." He hissed.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The next morning, Harry missed breakfast. He had tossed and turned and practically strangled himself with the blankets until, at about six-thirty, Malfoy came in and drenched him with water from one of the bathroom taps. Afterwards, Malfoy simply went to breakfast while Harry, who didn't need breakfast anyway, dressed and went to the headmaster's office.

After informing Dumbledore of his dream, Harry went to see Madam Pomfrey. She doused him with numbing potions (she couldn't actually heal the gashes he had caused himself) and gave him something for the headache (which didn't work by the way).

At any rate, it was half past eight before he could actually head for his first lesson.

History of Magical Creatures turned out to be a sort of independent study thing. Harry and Malfoy went to their history of magic class, were given large packets, and were sent back to their rooms. According to the first sheet Harry pulled out, he and Malfoy were supposed to complete the assignments enclosed in the packet. Assignments were, apparently, to read from one of the books discussed in the packet and to prepare and essay on it. They had two periods for each essay (which had to be three feet long) and the week's essay was to be turned in to Victor Krum or Professor Binns on each Friday.

The most interesting thing Harry noticed about this arrangement was that the subjects of the books were all one of two things; a: vampires or b: shape-changers.

::::::::::::::::::::::::: A/N: I wonder why. (wink wink) ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

By the time 11 o clock rolled around with his advanced defense classes, Harry was both worn out and extremly pissed. See, it turned out that Malfoy had the exact same schedule as Harry save for wandless magic. Upon opening the portrait guarding their rooms, his surly disposition increased.

For his advanced defense classes he had been told to report back there. Malfoy and Krum were waiting for him.

"Come in, Harry. Come in." Krum gestured for him to sit on the couch with Malfoy. They sat at either end.

"Now, ve can get started." Krum began pacing up and down in front of the hearth.

"This class is intended to teach you forms of defense that are particular to your circumstances. I haff learned much about vampires in my travels, Harry, and as for you, Mr. Malfoy, my best friend at Durmstrang vas a shape-changer. I assure you both, I know vat I am teaching about. I vill also be mostly in charge of your History class, so do not be surprised if I include things that belong there.

"Ve vill start vith vat you already haff found out about yourselves. Harry," Krum glanced at him, "Vill you please tell us vat it vas like for you to become a vampire and vat you already know about it?"

Harry nodded and began to speak.

"Well, I'm a born vampire, so obviously I wasn't bitten. I sort of... I was on the steps of the leaky cauldron when I changed. It hurt like hell but that's about all I can remember. When I got my room I checked my mirror and noticed I'd changed but that's about it 'till the next morning."

Krum interrupted.

"How had you changed?"

"I was taller and my hair was longer. I also moved differently. at first, I didn't need my glasses. now I do again, but when I'm under the blood lust, it doesn't really matter."

Krum nodded his head for Harry to continue.

"The next morning I sort of got lost in the blood lust. I accidentally attacked the wizard across the hall, but I don't think he remembers."

Krum interrupted again.

"Haff you lost control like that since?"

"Once, last night."

"Vy?"

"I hadn't fed in a few days and I woke from a nightmare covered in blood."

"Other than the first night and last night, haff you ever lost control or even come close to it?"

"I've come close to it once before."

"Ven and vot happened?"

"Umm." Harry looked at Malfoy. Malfoy looked back with a slight hint of curiosity.

"The second night in the leaky cauldron, Malfoy showed up. He asked me to heal a cut of his and I had a little trouble because it was bleeding." Harry was blushing and looking anywhere but at Malfoy or Krum.

"You mean," Malfoy started in a surprised tone, "That I was in danger of being bitten the entire time I was in there?" Harry blushed some more, and he wasn't entirely sure why.

"No," he responded, "just while your shirt was off and you were still bleeding. That's why it took so long to complete the spell, I was having trouble concentrating."

"Oh. I thought it was just because you were so bad in charms."

Krum interrupted them before it could become an actual fight.

"Vot haff you read about vampires?"

"I know some about their life span, feeding process, and mating habits. Hermione, Ron and I are pretty sure that my father was a born vampire. We're pretty sure he turned my mother less than two years out of school."

Krum nodded.

"Is there anything else?"

Harry shook his head.

"Then Mr. Malfoy, If you vould please explain vot your change vas like and vot you know of shape-changers."

Malfoy took a deep breath then calmly started explaining.

"When I first changed, I was in my room. Like Potter, I don't remember much about it except that it hurt, but when I could think clearly again, I was a lot shorter, my vision was funny, and I was covered in feathers. I was a falcon. I started learning to fly that night."

"Ven vas this?"

"July. About the twentieth."

"Vot is your second shape?"

"A tarantula."

"Vot do you know about shape-changers?"

"I know the history of the Malfoy family shape-changers. I also know about the more prominent ones I'm not related to. Other than auras, which I know some about, there's really not much else, is there?"

"You haff the basics."

"You mean there's more?"

"There is alvays more."

Krum finally stopped his pacing. He looked them straight in the eyes.

"I learned many things vile abroad. Vone of them vas, those vith gifts like yours are lucky. Some vith your gifts end up hating other vizards. They say that anger can keep you alive ven you are persecuted. Others say faith and love can do the same. I'm vith the others. They don't fear or hate normal vizards. They pity them. Do you know vy?"

Harry and Malfoy shook their heads.

"Because most people vill never know anything beyond their own physicality. You, Mr. Malfoy,"

"Please call me Draco."

Krum looked surprised.

"Alright. Draco. You haff a chance to experience life in vays that not even Animagi can. You are yourself but, very soon, you vill also contain six other beings. They are still you, but in other vays, you vill become them. Many do not know this but shape-changers must _become _their shapes. At some point you vill believe you are, in turn, each of your shapes. Vonce that happens, you haff complete control over your shape. It also, to some extent, controls you. You vill never be the same again. You are changed utterly. But you haff changed for the better and, in time, you may come to realize this."

Draco- No! Malfoy!- Was staring at Krum as if he'd never seen another human being before. Krum turned to Harry.

"And you, Harry. You haff a destiny. You haff a true purpose in your life. You may not like it, you probably vill be hating it, but it's there and you cannot change it. Your inheritance, your talents, vill change your destiny so completely, you vill be able to live. No vampire has ever died vithout living first, and you cannot live until you haff fulfilled your destiny. Ven you finally haff time to live, my greatest vish is to be there, to be able to vatch you glow. It vill be spectacular. Vampires love as no other being, even Veelas, ever can. They claim," and Krum smiled as he said this, "that it is just something in the blood. They mate for life and love long after it is over. I am also vishing that, if I am ever falling in love, I may be granted the privilege of just vone moment of Vampire love."

Krum looked at both of them.

"The two of you haff no idea of your luck. I can never make you see that. I can, however, make you understand your pover. Each of you has the potential to be very poverful in your own right. However, I vould like you to try something. If the two of you ver to vork together, you could, qvite literally, rule the vorld, ver you of any mind to."

Krum glanced at the watch on his wrist.

"Our time is almost over. I haff one reqvest to make of each of you. Mr. Malfoy, Draco, vould you please transform both of your shapes for us and, Harry, vould you please demonstrate the bloodlust for me."

A bit surprised, Dra- Malfoy stood up. With a slight hint of uncertainty, Malfoy closed his eyes and waited.

With a slight pop of imploding air, There stood a falcon.

It strutted over to the couch, climbed on to the arm and took off. It flew once around the room and then settled... on Harry's arm. With a much fainter pop, Harry suddenly felt the bird-turned-tarantula start to crawl up his arm. At any other time he would have shaken it of quickly, no one wants to suddenly feel things crawling on you, but, as Harry knew that it was a person, he didn't shake it off. He simply held very still as it crawled up his arm and settled on his shoulder, so as to give him a good view of its fangs and many eyes. Its gray-black body bristled with thick hairs.

With a last twitch of its fore legs, which caused Harry to shiver, the Tarantula jumped slightly and landed on the back of the couch. It the crawled along the back of Harry's neck, a very uncomfortable feeling indeed, to the opposite arm of the couch, lowered itself to the cushion, and changed in a bang of exploding air into Draco Malfoy.

Harry was speechless. Malfoy was smirking. Krum spoke first.

"Very good. Now, Harry, if you please-"

Harry nodded, closed his mouth, and stood. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He thought of the blood running down his chest a few nights ago. He visualized it again. He remembered what it felt like. He remembered the taste of that wizard's blood.

When he opened his eyes, he had fangs. He looked to Krum. Krum nodded. Harry saw the jugular vein in the defense professor's neck. He watched it throb. Without realizing it, he started to move towards Krum. Krum didn't bat an eyelid. Quite calmly, he said

"Harry, contain yourself. You are not a threat to me. I however, can be a very great threat. I vould like it very much if you ver to close your eyes."

Harry was having trouble. He looked away from Krum. Unfortunately, he spotted Malfoy. He recognized Malfoy. This particular being had tempted him once before. He remembered what Malfoy looked like, dripping with blood. The blood lust drew him towards Malfoy. Harry fought it, fought to push himself back. For a few long moments, he stood there, in the middle of the room, shaking.

Then, ever so slowly, he began to move backwards. He took one step, two, four, seven, he was in a corner. He drew himself into a small ball. With his head between his knees and his arms holding his legs close, he couldn't see Malfoy. He tried to visualize cool, calm things. It wasn't working. All he wanted to think about was blood. He wanted the blood of the wizards in the room with him.

In a last desperate attempt, he visualized Hedwig, the night he left the Dursleys. As he saw the red blood on the white feathers, he felt an overwhelming wave of sadness.

His fangs drew back.

His eyes cooled.

He was Harry again.

A/N: I can't remember if Nott was the last Slytherin boy or not, no pun intended. Sorry this took so long, life's been a bit bitchy. School starts tomorrow, so I can't promise anything.

Thanks.

-Leif


	13. chapter thirteen

Recap: He wanted the blood of the wizards in the room with him. In a last desperate attempt, he visualized Hedwig, the night he left the Dursleys. As he saw the red blood on the white feathers, he felt an overwhelming wave of sadness. His fangs drew back. His eyes cooled. He was Harry again.

Chapter 13

Harry looked up, mortified, at the thoughts he been having. Amazingly, while Malfoy's face was mostly blank with, what was that, a slight hint of fear, Krum was smiling.

"Very good, Harry, very good. You ver so deep in the bloodlust, you saw us as nothing but food. However, even from that vantage point, you realized it vas wrong, and you fought it. Obviously, you have been practicing. It also helps that you fed only two days ago, you are doing vell. Now, time is up," Krum rose from the chair he'd sat in when Malfoy transformed, and headed for the portrait hole, "I must be heading for my room. Qvidditch tryouts tomorrow, right Harry? Goodnight, both of you."

With that, he walked out.

Harry- no, Potter- was still sitting in the corner, staring at the ground in embarrassment. Draco really didn't understand why Ha- Potter was ashamed by the bloodlust. If _he _were the one who could terrify people just by closing his eyes for a moment, he certainly wouldn't feel bad about it.

Ah well, Harry- no, Potter- was a Gryffindor and they all had some weird sense of right and wrong.

Maybe he should say something to Har-Pott- Ah screw it.

Maybe he should say something to Harry.

He started to walk forward. He stopped about a foot in front of Harry, who looked up with a still-red face.

"Hey Potter, you better get to bed. You've got tryouts early tomorrow and you really should get some sleep before that. After all, if you aren't awake enough tomorrow, you wont be able to replace enough team members to actually give us Slytherins any competition."

He spun, walked to his room, stepped inside, and shut the door.

The next morning, Harry was up early. He dressed quickly, grabbed his Firebolt, and headed downstairs. Not needing breakfast, Harry went straight to the Quidditch Pitch. After seeing that the conditions were perfect, Harry headed off to the changing rooms.

An hour later, the current team, which consisted of Ginny, Ron, Harry, Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper (the two beaters from the previous year), was dressed and flying laps. As the hopeful Gryffindor tryouts approached the field, Harry signaled, and the team touched down.

There were six possibilities for the two vacant chaser positions. First, there was Victoria Frobisher, a fourth year who had tried out for the team the previous year but had been turned down because her Charms club came first. Next, there was fourth year Geoffrey Hooper, who had also tried out the previous year. Euan Abercrombie, a second year, was there and looking very scared. There were also two third year boys, Christopher McLaughlin and Brandon Jamieson. Last was another third year, girl this time, Natalie Macdonald.

Victoria (Vicky she corrected him) went first. As before she flew well, however, he would reserve judgement on that for later. He told her to stay.

Geoffrey Hooper flew next, and Harry didn't like him. He flew almost as well as Vicky, but he had an air about him, maybe just in the way he moved, that stated, quite clearly, he was above them. It reminded Harry of the Draco Malfoy that had once been insulted to have detention helping the Gamekeeper. Perhaps Hooper was channeling a younger Dra-Malfoy's spirit. Harry also found that Hooper was a _real _whiner, Angelina had been right. He asked him to wait, though.

Euan Abercrombie flew pretty well, Harry (with a few grateful glances from team members) sent off Hooper and asked Euan to stay. In his opinion, with some practice, Euan would be better for the team than Hooper ever could be.

Christopher McLaughlin was pretty good, however, Euan was at least as good. Christopher left the pitch and it was a similar case with his friend Brandon Jamieson.

Last, was the third year girl, Natalie Macdonald. She was a surprise. She was so good, the other two contestants were laughable. Natalie was at least as good as Ginny, though no one could match Harry. The team told Euan to come back in a few years when the next position opened up. In the meantime, Ginny had taken Vicky (who finally set her priorities straight) and Natalie into the changing rooms, and now the entire team, all seven players, was assembled on the field.

Harry looked at the team, _his _team, and grinned. Sure, they only had two weeks 'till the first match of the year, Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Sure, It was gonna be tough. But, with the faces of his team beaming back at him, he was certain that there was no way a group of slimy Slytherins could possibly beat a team with this much raw spirit.

He rubbed his hands in anticipation before nodding to his team and taking off.

The next two weeks went passed in a blur. By Thursday, a week and a half later, Harry was beginning to flounder. With his new classes he had three hours of work a night, easy. Add to that the five grueling Quidditch practices they'd had per week (which consequently meant he had five or six hours of homework instead) and he was in deep water. He was praying he'd survive just one more day.

By his reasoning, things would settle down after the match on Saturday.

Of course, Harry's not known for his reasoning.

The past weeks had seen amazing progress in ADADA. :::::::: A/N: wow, what an abbreviation! ADADA, Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts:::::: Harry, D-Malfoy and Krum had become, well, I dunno. Friends wasn't the word, it was more complicated than that. Krum was still the teacher and Harry and Malfoy weren't exactly friends yet, but, something had started to change. There was a feeling, almost, of trust in the group.

They had started to work on physical defense, movement, mostly. Harry was practicing fighting the bloodlust in private. During the sessions with Krum, the furniture moved to the sides of the room and Krum would fire spells at Harry and/or Malfoy, who had to dodge them. Sometimes they'd fire spells at each other. Krum knew quite a bit about this sort of thing, and would often teach both of them special tucks and rolls that were better for absorbing impact.

Occlumancy, on the other hand, was a disaster. Sure, Malfoy had decreased the number of biting remarks he aimed at Harry. Sure, Harry had been improving, but that didn't matter. Snape was in a foul mood all the time. Harry had started to experience physical pain when Snape used _Legilimens_ on him. To Harry's further horror, Snape declared that Malfoy was a week away from being ready to practice _Legilimens_ on Harry.

And so, it was with great relief that the weekend finally rolled around.

Harry headed out early that morning to find that it was perfect. The sun was bright, but there were a few stray white clouds coming in. as long as the match was fairly quick, they should be shaded for the most part.

Five minutes before the match started found Harry giving his team a last-minute pep talk.

"We've trained harder than any of the idiots were gonna face out there today. Two weeks and we've held ten practices. Natalie, Vicky, you may be the underdogs in practice, but you're twice as good as the average Slytherin." Harry glared with a fierce sort of pride at his chasers. "We've beaten Slytherin before and we can do it again. Any questions?"

Ron grinned.

"Nope, mate. You've pretty much frightened us into submission."

Ginny felt compelled to add in her two cents worth as well.

"Nothin' on Wood, though, from what I've heard."

And with Harry blushing behind them, the team streamed onto the field.

Once lined up, Madam Hooch ordered Harry and Malfoy, the Slytherin Captain, to approach the center and shake hands.

"May the best man win, Malfoy."

Malfoy gave Harry a rather evil smile

"I intend to."

Harry winced. He'd walked right into that one.

"Three! Two! One!" They all kicked of to madam Hooch's whistle and began to circle the field.

"Gryffindor's in possession. New chaser Vicky Frobisher with the quaffle heading toward the Slytherin goal posts."

It happened in an instant. As the Gryffindor chasers headed down field with the rest of the game, Harry, flying around the Gryffindor goalposts with Ron, knew something was wrong. He had just enough time to throw up a simple shield spell, when the world exploded. He was falling backwards at a great speed, things were flying past his vision leaving black trails in their wake. He saw the world start to go loopy and fade. Things were thudding into him, and he heard Ginny scream.

Something was hurting _his _team.

That was the last thing he remembered. Others, however, can finish the story.

Draco Malfoy was watching dazedly from where the shock waves from the explosion had thrown him up against part of the stands. Every thing seemed rather distant and he didn't really want to move. He oddly enough, couldn't really feel any of the debris hitting him. He watched as Harry turned over in the air and brought his broom up just before he smashed into the ground. Close by, a bloody Ron Weasley was lying on the ground. Dodging flying shrapnel so fast he was a blur, Harry was suddenly above Weasley and Weasley...

A blue light settled around Weasley. The flying objects seemed, not to bounce, but to simply go elsewhere. Weasley remained unharmed.

Harry was no longer above Weasley, Draco couldn't see him anywhere. Suddenly, though, The entire Gryffindor team was glowing, and then the stands at that end of the field. Draco watched in awe as the blue light swept in a wave until it finally reached his end.

The airborne objects, having no where to go with the light encompassing the whole field, slowed. They moved sideways and settled around the pitch. Draco watched in fascination as the still-airborne form of Harry Potter faltered.

The light blinked out.

As the Firebolt dropped forty feet and hit the ground, Draco knew no more.

Draco woke in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had completely cured him of any injury sustained in the explosion.

His first thought was _Wow. I didn't know Harry could do that._ His second was _Shit! Is he all right?_ His third was _Have I gone insane!?!_

He was worried, very worried, about the stupid Gryffindor.

Sitting up and looking around he gasped when he saw the hospital wing.

See, so many people were injured in the initial explosion that the hospital wing was incapable of holding them all. On that note, it had been expanded, temporarily, to about three or four times it's original size. Surrounding him in rows, were about fifty beds, all, for the most part, occupied.

Next to him he saw a few Slytherins he couldn't really remember the names of. Scanning the room, he noticed a group of red-clad people. Swinging his legs sideways, he got up just as the nurse came back and escorted the Gryffindors out. Standing up, while the nurse was once again out of the room, Draco strolled along the beds until he reached the spot where the Gryffindors had stood. The two beds in front of him were occupied by the two students who appeared to have been closest to the explosion.

One of these students was Weasley. Other than a green paste on parts of his face and arms, he looked no worse for wear. Harry, on the other hand, looked like hell. His entire face was black and blue, gashed up, or both. The gashes had all scabbed over and the bruises had started to heal, but he looked terrible. Most of the rest of his body was covered in bandages and Draco really didn't want to know what was under them.

The next four hours passed quickly for Draco. The other students started to wake up and Draco, after a thorough once-over from Madam Pomfrey, was released about noon. From the rumors he heard traveling the school, he was able to figure out that it was Sunday. Dumbledore called him to his office and proceed to explain some things.

"Alright m'boy?"

Draco nodded and sat down.

"Well then, I'll get started. Please don't stop me, just pretend to listen and I'll be happy."

Dumbledore stood and began to pace.

"To begin, I'm sure you're wondering what actually happened yesterday during the Quidditch match, right?" the Headmaster glanced his way and Draco nodded again. "Well, I have spoke at length with the conscious teachers and a group of Aurors specialized in investigation. We know it was a death-eater attack, that's a given. You were probably unconscious at the point that the dark mark flew up, into the sky. We also know what caused the explosion, or should I say explosions. From the remaining pieces, we have discovered that there was a single muggle time bomb probably triggered by magic. Once that one exploded it set off the others, probably about four other smaller ones, in a chain-reaction.

"After something like that, at least half of the people there that day should have died. Something else happened though. How much do you remember beyond the initial explosion?"

Draco looked up at the headmaster curiously.

"I remember Potter flew above Weasley and Weasley started to glow. Then I couldn't see Harry. The blue light came down the field and I stopped getting hit with things. After the light went out and he fell, I don't remember anymore."

Dumbledore continued his pacing.

"Well, from that we have come to the conclusion that Harry saved the lives of over half the school. One of the first people to scream was Ms. Ginny Weasley. I believe that Harry's vampire instincts kicked in. they recognized a threat to something or someone he believed belonged to him. When a vampire's property is threatened they will do almost anything to protect it.

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"You mean that were I to, say, steal Harry's Firebolt, he'd try to kill me?"

Dumbledore laughed.

"No, of course not. This rule generally only applies to _living_ things that can be viewed as the vampire's property. My guess is that, being their captain, Harry viewed the Gryffindor team as _his _team. So, when Ms. Weasley screamed, he tried to protect them. I imagine that he surrendered completely to his vampire side and acted on instinct to save those he cared about. Consequently, he shielded the entire school using a very interesting brand of wandless magic."

Draco started to interrupt but the headmaster cut him off.

"Yes, I do believe Harry, at least his vampire side, knew exactly what he was doing. You will notice, later, that some students will have a few lasting bruises and aches. Harry used another type of vampiric magic as well as the wandless shield spell. This magic seems to have reacted rather badly to some people, most of the Slytherin team included."

Draco opened his mouth. Dumbledore cut him off.

"I have noticed, Draco, that you seem to prefer using Harry's first name over his last name, am I right?"

Draco went red.

"I thought so. You should give it a shot. I doubt he'd turn down your friendship this time. After all, he cared enough to nearly kill himself trying to save Mr. Weasley and yourself."

"WHAT!?" Draco blurted out before he could stop himself. Dumbledore's eyes were serious.

"The three people most injured in the explosions were Ronald, Harry and yourself. Mr. Wealsley, because he was closest to the initial explosion. Harry, well, I'm sure you've seen him.

"You, on the other hand, weren't close at all. Instead, a long sharp piece of metal from the bomb impaled you. I'm sure you had no idea what was going on. You should be dead right now. Actually, you should have died almost instantly. Apparently your own inheritance kept holding on until the spell reached you. Even so, you should have died from blood loss within minutes.

"But you didn't. Apparently, what with Mr. Weasley's miraculous recovery and a few others, Harry poured some of his life essence, namely the healing powers he has for himself as a vampire, into his shield spell and concentrated it where it was needed. As a result, no one died, though Harry still hasn't woken up. At any rate, the only reason we know you were wounded at all was because of the eyewitnesses. When we finally made it to the field, the piece of metal was lying by your side and all you had to show for it was blood stained robes and a little bruising."

Draco gaped at the headmaster. He was just about to try to say something when Madam Pomfrey's head appeared in the, suddenly, blazing fireplace.

"Dumbledore! You're needed right away! It's Mr. Potter and I'm not sure what to do."

She then disappeared. Dumbledore stood quickly, grabbed a fist full of blue powder of the mantel and gestured to Draco.

"Come along m'boy, Mr. Potter needs our help." And with that he grabbed Draco by the collar, threw the powder into the fire, and dragged them both through.

Upon reaching the Hospital wing via the fireplace in the nurse's office, Draco automatically could see what was wrong. Harry had, apparently, thrown up blood all over everything in reach. Madam Pomfrey quickly cleared it away.

"Dumbledore, he woke in was in such pain that he vomited. After a bit I tried to get him to take some blood, and he did. But once he had drained it, everything came back up again."

Madam Pomfrey was wetting cloths. As Dumbledore approached the skinny boy in the bed in front of them, Madam Pomfrey brought over the wet cloths and placed them on Harry's forehead.

Dumbledore held his hands out over Harry for a bit and then withdrew them.

"Draco, please come here."

Draco approached cautiously as madam Pomfrey was looking as though she wanted to send him out.

"Draco," the headmaster addressed him, "the next time Harry wakes would you please help me with him?"

Draco nodded wordlessly.

"I think we will try madam Pomfrey's way one more time before resorting to feeding him intravenously."

A few hours later, Harry woke a second time. Everything happened as it had before, but with a few differences. This time it was Draco who tried to feed Harry and, this time, Harry stayed conscious after expelling Draco's attempts at food.

He held Harry's bandaged hands and let him know someone was there as Dumbledore hooked Harry up to a silver and red device Draco had seen only on muggle television (not that he would admit he'd ever watched that).

Draco, with permission from Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore, stayed with Harry for the rest of the night, as he seemed to have a calming effect on the bruised boy.

A/N:

Sorry if this chapter was a little confusing, it should make sense later.

In response to a review, I live in the southwestern part of the United States of America, Tucson Arizona to be specific. For us, school starts halfway through August and lets out for summer in mid-to-late may. When I originally started this story, I figured I'd make twenty chapters maybe. I also thought I'd have serious slash by the seventh chapter. I never expected to, at chapter thirteen, be less than a third of the way through, planning a sequel, and for the two boy to not even be friends yet. Let's see... Harry and Draco will become friends in, probably, the next one or two chapters, depends on how long I make certain scenes. I will try to hurry but, unfortunately, school, my friends and my boyfriend take precedence over my writing in most cases. I have to be on a bus by six-thirty AM and I don't get home 'til six PM what with the two and a half hours of homework, dinner, and the fact that I can't get to sleep without reading something first, life gets complicated.

I will try, though, and since it is the weekend, you never know.

Try to guess what event is coming up soon.

Rambling over,

-Leif

PS: I've only looked over this once or twice so please alert me to any glaring errors.

Gotta run.


	14. chapter fourteen

Recap: He held Harry's bandaged hands and let him know someone was there as Dumbledore hooked Harry up to a silver and red device Draco had seen only on muggle television (not that he would admit he'd ever watched that). Draco, with permission from Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore, stayed with Harry for the rest of the night, as he seemed to have a calming effect on the bruised boy.

Chapter 14

Harry woke to a splitting headache. It was so strong, so bloody _painful_, that the first thing Harry did in the waking world, was throw up.

Now the interesting thing about vampire puking was that, since a vampire's stomach was basically empty except for blood, after about two rounds all a vampire is... expelling is bile and some stomach acid. I'm sure you can imagine how very painful that has to be.

Once Harry was capable of doing something other than vomiting, he curled up. He had no idea where he was; only that he hurt and the pain was not lessening. He curled tighter.

Then he felt a slight pressure on his shoulder. Since loosening didn't _really_ increase or decrease the pain, he uncurled. He was now lying on his back. Something large was held in front of his face. His mouth was guided to it. He felt his canines touch it and lengthen, puncturing it.

What he felt then could only be described as ecstasy. All the pain in his body disappeared. All that existed was this wonderful taste, this wonderful feeling sweeping from his fangs through the rest of his body.

And then it ended. The pain came back.

He bent sideways and threw up again.

Then next time he became fully conscious, not just groggy like the second time they tried to feed him, he could tell he was lying in the hospital wing. He blinked a few times to try to clear his vision and then, realizing that his eyes weren't working properly, tried to sit up. A hand pressing lightly on his chest prevented him from completing the action.

"Don't. It was hard enough getting you to keep something down the first time. For our sake, Potter, don't do anything that might bring it all up again."

Harry shoved away the hand, realizing that it belonged to Malfoy.

"Where the hell am I, and why the hell are you here?" He rasped.

The pain had started to come back again so, against his better judgement, he obeyed Malfoy and laid his head back.

"In answer to your very rude question, Potter, you are in the Hospital wing."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Now, Malfoy," his throat was very sore, he didn't know why, "please explain to me why I feel like I've been hit by a Semi."

Harry sensed, somehow, that Malfoy moved back and settled himself beside Harry's bed.

"In case you didn't notice, Potter, you were injured, that's why you're sore."

Harry made a derisive noise at the sound of the word "sore". That didn't quite cover it. Malfoy ignored the noise.

"What is the last thing you remember?"

"Why's it any of your business, Malfoy? Gonna run and tell daddy?"

He could feel Malfoy getting angry.

"Look, Potter, I understand that you're hurting, and the headmaster did assign me this job, but I will leave if you are just going to insult me."

Harry started to laugh at the thought that _Malfoy_ was gonna run off and pout. Unfortunately, even when you're a vampire, if you have apparently crushed both your windpipe and chest after falling forty feet from an airborne broomstick, laughing is not the smartest thing to do.

Harry ended up in a coughing fit that brought up the little blood that had re-entered his system.

Draco was a little disappointed when Harry woke up as his usual insulting self, but he controlled it. Harry was in pain, as Draco had said, and that, coupled with the fact that Harry had saved Draco's life at the risk of his own, made Draco a little more forgiving.

He was rather startled when Harry broke into a coughing fit. Then he felt guilty because it was obviously something he'd said that had made Harry react this way.

When Harry bent sideways and started coughing and throwing up blood, Draco jumped to his feet. He was leaning over Harry in an instant with one hand holding up Harry's head and the other reaching for wet towels.

Once the spasms ceased, Draco leaned Harry back down and wiped his mouth. Reaching for a cool cloth, Draco proceeded to run the rag over Harry's entire sweat-soaked, blood-spattered, thoroughly bruised and cut up face, holding his short hair (Madam Pomfrey had cut it to keep it out of the way) back off of his forehead.

Harry looked up at him with still clouded eyes.

"Why are you helping me?" he half-moaned half-whispered.

Draco looked at him, really looked at him. He looked past the cuts, bruises and screwed up vision that were souvenirs only Harry had to endure. He looked past the stories and myths and lies that made up Harry's media face. He looked past, deep into the slightly clouded, emerald green eyes, and saw the skinny sixteen-year-old who never had a family and who the world expected to kill a Dark Lord. Harry didn't deserve the kind of life that was made for him.

"Because you, weather knowingly or not, saved my life. No," he said when Harry started to respond, "Don't say anything. I'll tell you what happened.

"We had a Quidditch match, you remember, Gryffindor verses Slytherin." Harry nodded. "Well, as most of the players headed to our end of the field, You and Weasley were circling your goalposts. Apparently, someone planted a series of bombs at that end of the field and, while you two were closest, they went off. Everyone was knocked to the ground except you. You brought your broom up and flew through the airborne debris. You then did something weird, you made Weasley glow blue. Things stopped hitting him. Slowly at first, but gaining speed, your blue light covered everyone there in a great wave of protection. No one else was injured after that, but some of us had been hurt before. You, according to Dumbledore, poured some of your life force into the spell and the few of us who were hurt badly started to heal. Weasley was one, I was another.

"You nearly killed yourself to heal me from a javelin-like piece of metal that pinned me, through the chest, to the stands."

Harry started to protest but Draco cut him off.

"Dumbledore said you might not remember, but, even so, I'm grateful. Thank you for doing it, even if you don't exactly remember what you did."

Harry still looked unsure, but there was really nothing Draco could do about it.

Harry was released two days later. He was excused from all classes until the following week and Malfoy was appointed as his keeper. Madam Pomfrey didn't trust him to rest and she was furious with Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall. See, they had decided that, since the two seekers would be at the same level of health (Harry would have healed reasonably), the re-match was going to be held that upcoming Saturday.

I think Fate likes to laugh at us, often. Either that, or there are gods of irony up there moving us around however they like. How else do you explain the infuriatingly ironic events so common to our lives. You know, like when you search the whole house over for the keys and then, three hours later, find them hanging neatly on the wrack for the first time in history.

Well, Draco was certainly starting to believe in irony gods. They were just about the only way to explain why, the second Draco decided to ask for Harry's friendship, he was unable to speak.

It happened like this.

It was Thursday night, and Harry was sitting on the long couch, bored. To be precise, it was eleven-thirty-one and twenty-seven seconds and Harry was so bored he was rationally considering going up to Malfoy, sitting on the short couch reading, and asking for his ideas on entertainment. He thought D-Malfoy must be pretty bored as well. His eyes weren't moving and he hadn't turned the page in, Harry checked his watch, thirteen minutes and forty-seven, no, eight, seconds.

Harry suffered in silence for another three minutes and twelve seconds before he decided to approach Dra-Malfoy. It was eleven-thirty-six.

Harry started to stand at the same time Dra-Mal-,Ah Hell, Draco looked up and opened his mouth to speak. They stared for about half a second before Draco collapsed.

Harry stared for a moment before jumping to Draco's side.

"What the Hell? Malfoy are you alright?"

Draco had wrapped his arms around his middle and was trying his best not to scream. Rocking back and forth, all he could do was glare and yell.

"Do I look alright, Potter!!!"

Harry didn't miss a beat.

"How can I help? What's wrong?"

Draco gave up on keeping back the screams.

"I'M BEING BLOODY TORN APART!!!"

It was only then that Harry used his head. Draco had said that new shapes came about once a month. His first shape had come around the twentieth of July. Stands to reason that his next shape would have been about the same time in August and then again in September.

In case you haven't guessed yet, today was the twenty-third.

Harry, not knowing what to do, really, sat down next to Draco and held his hands as he writhed on the floor. Harry didn't know what he'd done during the match, but he tried to do something similar. He let his mind drift.

What would Draco's new shape be?

He was answered almost immediately. For a few moments, Draco had been relatively quiet, only moaning rather than screaming. Now however, he started to scream again. Harry watched in astonishment as Draco's back arched. His arms swiveled forward, tearing muscles as they went. Draco's shirt was torn, as were his pants when his legs moved and his.... tail appeared. The last thing to change was his face, so Harry got to see it horribly twisted in agony for quite awhile.

After the screams died, however, Draco was gone. In his place was a beautiful timber wolf in the shreds of Draco's clothes.

The wolf's feet were white as new fallen snow. As his gaze traveled up the legs, the fur took on a tan tint. Its back was mostly black and gray, meshing perfectly with the other colors. The lower half of the wolf's face was white, with the top of its nose tan and streaks of gray and black going up to cover it's head and ears.

It was breathtaking.

It's silver-gray eyes, _Draco's _eyes, looked up at him.

Harry couldn't speak.

As the wolf whimpered and tried to free itself from Draco's clothes, Harry got closer. Oddly enough, the wolf welcomed the help. Once the wolf was free, it sat there, staring at Harry. He carefully reached out to touch its beautiful fur.

After a few minutes of permitting Harry to pet it, it insisted on going out.

"But we can't, it's after hours."

The wolf whined at him, trotted in a quick, small circle, and whined again.

"Oh." Harry said. "Oh. Well, I guess if I take my invisibility cloak."

The wolf growled softly at him, clearly telling him to get a move on, now!

A few halls and secret passages later, the timber wolf was romping through the grass at the edge of the lake. As they drew closer to the forest, the moon came out from behind a cloud and the wolf let loose with a happy howl.

The next morning, Draco woke late (well duh). He woke to find himself naked, save for a sheet, on the floor next to the larger of the two couches. His head was being pillowed on something very comfortable that rose and fell every few seconds.

For a moment, he just lay there, enjoying the peace. Then the memories hit him and he turned his head and looked in horror at his pillow.

It was Harry Potter's chest.

Apparently, Harry was also on the floor. The difference was, he was still asleep and fully clothed.

Draco started to sit up, and realized that Harry's arms had snaked around his waist. He tried to turn and Harry turned with him, keeping them close.

With mounting terror Draco realized that he had to sneeze. He was going to sneeze and wake up Harry, who would realize he was holding a naked Draco Malfoy in his arms.

Harry woke to the sound of someone very close sneezing. He was quite warm, content and, for a moment, he thought he was still dreaming. Harry was still a virgin and he'd never really woken to anyone before, so he was just acting on instinct born of dreams and his vampire nature. That little place in the back of his mind that told him things like "there is a dark wizard behind you, spin and curse him" and "Krum is firing high, you should drop low" and most importantly "that second-year has a crush on you, avoid her at all costs", was telling him that he liked this position and should snuggle deeper into the embrace. Opening his eyes slightly, he buried his face in the crook of the neck of this thing in his arms.

He smiled into the delightfully soft platinum-blonde hair...

Wait a moment.

OH SHIT!!!

Harry jumped back with a squeak, dropping Draco on his head. Unfortunately for both of them, the sheet was tangled around Harry's legs so that, when Harry moved, he dragged it off of Draco. Draco would have been completely mortified were it not for the fact that, when Harry jumped backwards, he hit a chair and now boy, chair and sheet were so tangled you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

Draco took that moment to dash, completely naked you remember, for his bedroom.

Harry, in the meanwhile, was fighting tooth and nail with the chair and sheet. His vampire instincts had taken over and he found he really didn't like being unable to move freely. By the time Draco re-emerged, the chair was little more than toothpicks, the sheet little was more than lint, and Harry was one pissed off vampire.

His anger at the furniture turned to embarrassment when he caught sight of Draco.

They looked at each other for one awkward moment before the both opened their mouths and Draco beat Harry to speaking.

"Tell anyone, Potter, and I'll kill you."

Harry glared.

"I'm a vampire, Malfoy, I'd like to see you try. Anyway, I won't tell if you don't. Agreed?"

Draco glared for a moment.

"Agreed."

They stared for another moment before Harry spoke.

"I guess this makes us friends."

"What?"

"Well," Harry tried to explain. "We've both seriously helped each other out in times of pain and we are keeping some of each others larger secrets...."

Draco thought about this for a moment.

"Alight. Friends."

They shook on it.

"You know," Harry added as he headed into his room to change, "You could call me by my given name, if you like."

Draco smiled a real, genuine, smile.

"Alright, Harry, maybe I will."

He turned to go down to breakfast, but then looked back.

"Harry?"

Harry turned.

"Yes?"

Draco grinned.

"You can call me Draco, if you like."

Harry smiled too.

"Alright, Draco, maybe I will."

And with that, Harry and Draco started a friendship that would be put to the hardest tests known to muggle or Wizard kind.

A/N: I am such a screwed up person. You do realize, I hope, that, despite being a freshman in her first week at a college prep school, I am still writing fanfiction when I have about twelve geometry assignments that, mind you I haven't even started, are due tomorrow.

Shit but I'm in trouble.

-Leif

PS: Don't worry, you fans of friendship before love, the actual slash doesn't start for a good few chapters yet. Heck, Harry and Draco don't even know they're gay.


	15. chapter fifteen

Recap: "Harry?" Harry turned. "Yes?" Draco grinned. "You can call me Draco, if you like." Harry smiled too. "Alright, Draco, maybe I will." And with that, Harry and Draco started a friendship that would be put to the hardest tests known to muggle or Wizard kind.

Chapter Fifteen

The first of these tests arrived in little more than a day. It came in the form of the Gryffindor/Slytherin rematch, and it wasn't pretty. Furious with that fact that Harry had made a full recovery (and ignoring the fact that they very likely owed their lives to him), the Slytherin team, minus Draco, was determined to make this match one to remember.

And so, it was with great anticipation that the school marched out to the Quidditch pitch that Saturday morning. Once again the five-minute mark found Harry lecturing his team.

"For three years running now, Gryffindor has been in possession of the Quidditch cup. Sure, there were times, in both of the years we actually played, when no one, including ourselves, thought we could do it. Last year, even with three players banned and having to fill positions after the first game, we still managed. While this newer team doesn't quite have the experience of, say, the team that won the cup three years ago, we do have the spirit.

"We've got an outstanding keeper who, even with half the stands chanting against him, even when we were behind, managed to save the match. We've got two beaters who, even with no experience and a, for the most part, rookie team, managed to shove bludgers into the faces of any foe who crossed their path.

"We've got three amazing chasers, one of whom, like her brothers, was born and bred Quidditch and saved the team's life last year. The other two chasers show so much promise it takes my breath away. With a team like this, how can we loose?"

Ron finally spoke up.

"Hey mate, you've forgotten the one player who's never failed to catch the snitch."

"I have too-" Harry began but Ron cut him off.

"The only times you've ever missed it were when you fell fifty feet from your broom while surrounded by dementors and when the field blew up. Can anyone else say the same?"

Harry was blushing but his team dragged him out anyway.

With the usual handshakes and threats about "Foul play" from Madam Hooch, the game commenced.

"Gryffindor in possession. New chaser Frobisher heading down the field. Passes to Weasley who passes to McDonald who dodges a bludger hit by Crabbe, aims, throws and... YES!! 10-0 to Gryffindor!!"

Harry rose until he was circling the pitch about fifty feet above the game. Draco, obviously bored with how badly his team was doing already, flew to meet him.

"Harry." Draco said with a slight nod of his blonde head.

"Draco." Harry acknowledged.

I personally still believe in the cruelty of fate. I think Draco does as well.

"Gryffindor still in possession. Weasley dodges a bludger and heads for the goal. Goyle sends the bludger back, Weasley dodges it a second time and Gryffindor beater Sloper passes it to Gryffindor beater Kirke, who smashes it into Goyle's face. Meanwhile- LOOKOUT!!"

The second bludger had randomly shot at Draco while all of the beaters had been occupied with the bludger in Weasley's vicinity. Draco (while dodging it) smashed into Harry and both of them tumbled off their brooms. Luckily, Harry did manage to catch hold of a broom (Draco's to be precise) and Draco, on instinct, had grabbed hold of Harry around the waist. Harry's broom was sinking, rather rapidly, towards the ground.

"Climb." Harry ordered.

"But–" Draco protested.

"Just do it." Harry growled. If he had been a vampire who'd been around for a bit, it would have been the work of an instant to swing them up. However, as he was a new vampire who had to deal with twice his own weight in a very awkward position, not to mention he was using just one hand, it was all he could do to hold on.

Slowly (or so it seemed to them), hand over hand, Draco made his way up Harry's body. Carefully, so as not to kick the Gryffindor, Draco mounted his broomstick and, with a rather interesting use of one hand and momentum, swung Harry up behind himself. Seeing that Harry's broom was gathering speed in it's downward plummet, Draco dove for it.

If Draco had been consciously attracted to guys (specifically Harry), this would have been a very sneaky move. Suddenly heading downwards was rather unsettling for Harry, who had very little idea of how he'd gotten topside of Draco's broom in the first place. The sudden drop caused Harry to do the logical thing; hold onto something. Unfortunately for Draco, he happened to be the only solid thing in reach.

If you've ever flown on a broom (or straddled a stair rail and pretended to fly), you might realize how Harry grabbing Draco made things difficult for the Slytherin. When going into a dive, you generally lean forward and down, and that doesn't work if you have something attached to your back and using all of it's vampiric strength (which is substantially more than the average teenager's) to keep you in the same position.

Fortunately, even if Harry is a bit of an idiot sometimes, he does know something about broomsticks and the basic principals of flying, and he quickly realized that if Draco could not move, he could not control the broom, thereby, causing it to fall.

Kinda hard not to notice that, really.

Once Draco felt the arms around his waist loosen their death-grip, he flattened himself to the broom handle and Harry did the same behind him. They quickly pulled up along side Harry's, still sinking, broom and Harry grabbed it. Muttering a quick "thanks", Harry slid off Draco's broom. After a brief free-fall, he mounted his own broomstick and the two boys returned to their previous height, this time with their eyes open for bludgers.

The whole thing had taken little more than a minute.

The rest of the game went by with little more incident. Sure, there was the usual cheating and dirty playing that came with any Gryffindor/Slytherin match, but that was to be expected. In fact, Vincent and Gregory were caught in no less than twenty-seven _different_ fouls, which (while proving that they did have some creative thinking skills) was down right embarrassing and would probably have left the game at about 260-0 to Gryffindor, were it not for the fact that Ron Weasley had to leave the pitch in the aftermath of the duo's brains. The Gryffindor team's reserve keeper, third year Ethan Andree, had to replace Weasley. That little bit of cheating, on the idiot Slytherins' parts, was how Madam Hooch caught the two of them attempting their own demented version of stooging. They'd tried to claim that they didn't know it was no longer legal.

"Even if you had pulled it off correctly, which would have been highly unlikely as it requires three chasers, it was outlawed in 1884 and has, therefore, been illegal for over a hundred years. Penalty to Gryffindor and get Mr. Weasley to Madam Pomfrey!"

The game had been going on for maybe thirty minutes and Gryffindor was actually down by something like twenty points, before Draco, dodging another bludger, realized he had a problem. Up to this point, he'd decided that, since it was hot out, he must have had beads of sweat rolling down the side of his face. It wasn't until, while dodging a bludger, he'd tried to wipe his forehead that he realized it wasn't sweat, but blood on his hand. It turns out that when he crashed into Harry, he wound up with a vertical cut through the left side of his left eyebrow. Lucky for him, it hadn't really bled until he accidentally tore it open during one of his dodges.

Realizing that it was, now, bleeding quite profusely (which was rather dangerous anywhere near Harry), Draco briefly considered signaling for a timeout, but there were two problems with that. One; no body save the teachers, Granger, Weasley and himself knew that Harry was a vampire (and it would look a mite suspicious if Draco were to signal time-out for the Quidditch equivalent of a paper-cut), and two; Harry would definitely notice the blood if Draco drew attention to it.

Suddenly, he spotted the snitch at the opposite end of the pitch, the Gryffindor end.

He dove. Harry looked at him. Draco covered his face.

Whoops. Too late.

With inhuman speed (no duh) Harry changed the direction of his flight and dove towards Draco. Knowing he had only one chance to both, live, and keep their cover, Draco dove downwards at an angle. Faster and faster he flew. The snitch was just a few feet above the ground but the two of them had been over a hundred feet up.

"Go!" Draco yelled. "Please! Faster!" But Harry was gaining on him. The vampire had flattened himself out completely and, as a result, was a great deal more aerodynamic than Draco.

It was then that Draco, fumbling around in desperation, happened upon an epiphany. In his extra classes with Harry (history and advanced defense) they had discovered that Harry could use aspects of his vampire nature without surrendering to the blood lust.

What if Draco could do the same thing? Squinting, he searched for the sense of something foreign in his mind. That's what he did when he transformed at will, he searched his mind until he found a place, a sense, that was different, that didn't quite belong. If he focused on that point, he was aware that it had, at the moment, three elements.

Two of the elements were quite familiar, after all, they all had colors attached. The first element was the one he wanted, though. It was his hawk self and, as such, was white. Now, usually, when he chose a form, he would carefully ease into the feeling that signified that shape. It would envelop him like a wave of water and he would emerge from it, changed.

This time, though, he didn't submerge himself. Instead, he performed the mental equivalent of laying a hand on the feeling as if it were a solid thing. He could still sense the shape twisting beneath his mental fingers, but he was not drowned by it. In this situation, his body retained its human-like shape, but his mind went falcon. He found himself much more in tune with the air currents. Suddenly, he knew where the patches of rising, hot air were in relation to the cooling air. Every little adjustment helped and he soon found that Harry was no longer gaining on him.

A few drops of blood dripped off of Draco's face. They hung, suspended in the air, as time seemed to slow down.

The small, insignificant drops made contact with Harry's lower lip.

In an instant Harry was beside Draco, staring at the blonde's eyebrow. What happened next could have been instrumental in their relationship, were it not for the fact that the ground was less than fifteen feet away.

Harry reached for the trail of blood leaking down Draco's cheek. He didn't see the ground.

"Harry look out!"

Harry jerked around just in time to bring his arm sideways, close his hand over the golden ball that Draco had just barely missed, and pull out of his headlong dive

"No!" Draco shouted. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!!"

Harry was being borne away by the cheering mob of red, but the dark-haired Gryffindor didn't look happy. He had his face scrunched and he looked like he was concentrating very hard on something. Draco stared in fascination as Harry found the audacity to lick his lips.

Harry had really been enjoying the game until Draco had crashed into him and they'd had to perform death-defying stunts on high-speed airborne broomsticks. Even then, the game hadn't been terrible. At least, it hadn't been until he had seen the blood running down the side of Draco Malfoy's face. Harry had fed the night before, so that sight should have affected him very little, if at all.

That wasn't what happened, though

Instead, he had been almost instantly overcome by the blood lust. When Draco dove, Harry couldn't help but follow. He quickly reached his limits and was stuck about ten feet behind Draco and unable to gain any more than a few inches every second.

Then Draco's cut had dripped, and the blood spattered Harry's lips. His tongue darted out before he could stop it.

The taste of the other wizard's blood filled him with feelings he'd never had before, or at least not to that degree. He felt as if he could live forever on just those few drops. It was the most exquisite thing he'd ever tasted. It was like water in the midst of a desert. It was delicious wine in a romantic setting. It was hot fudge in the depths of winter.

It was golden nectar from Heaven.

He wanted more.

Without knowing exactly how he'd done it, Harry found himself beside Draco, matching him dive for dive. He stretched out his hand to touch the cut on Draco's forehead. The blood running down the side of the blonde's face was both maddening and hypnotizing. Nothing could have broken him out of the trance he was falling into. Nothing, that is, except his voice.

"Harry look out!"

In slow motion, Harry turned his head and saw the snitch. In slow motion, he swung his outstretched arm forward and caught the snitch. In slow motion, the two of them pulled out of the dive.

The world sped up again.

The cheering crowd quickly engulfed Harry, but he couldn't take his eyes off Draco, who was shouting something that looked rather profane.

The crowd was nearly Harry's undoing. He was quite deep in the blood lust and being surrounded by a hundred people, all, bear in mind, full of blood pulsing even more strongly and quickly than usual, due to the atmosphere, wasn't helping. The only thing that kept him from turning an exciting Quidditch match into a bloodbath, was the fact that he didn't _really_ want any of the crowd's blood. The only blood, it seemed, he hungered for, was that of the Slytherin seeker currently glaring at him from across the pitch.

His face was scrunched up in concentration as he fought the blood lust.

Draco was watching him.

He couldn't resist. He licked his lips.

Ron cornered him in the changing rooms after Harry had gotten free of the crowd and Ron had been released from madam Pomfrey's lair.

"What's the matter, mate?"

"Nothing." Harry replied. Ron didn't believe him.

"Yeah right. You looked like you were about to kill something after you caught the snitch. What's up?"

Harry realized that, even if Ron dropped the subject (which was hardly likely considering it seemed Quidditch-related), Ron would invariably tell Hermione, who would not let it alone until she was completely satisfied, which could take hours. He also realized that needed to talk to Dumbledore or Krum.

"Alright, Ron. You remember in the middle of the match, Malfoy and I collided due to a bludger?"

"'Course I do, but what's that got to do –"

Harry cut him off.

"Just listen. At some point between in the crash, dive and my fall, Malfoy got cut, just above the eye. I never saw the snitch, I dove to chase Malfoy when I saw the blood."

Ron was staring.

Harry sighed, resigned to telling Ron the last bit but not knowing how the redhead would react.

"That's not the worst bit."

Ron gaped.

"It's not?" he managed to squeak.

"No, it's not." Harry planned his next words carefully. "When we dove, Draco was bleeding freely. Some of it dripped off and, what with the speeds we were flying at, his blood his my face, my mouth to be specific. I was so... mesmerized by his blood that I didn't even realize that the snitch was approaching, and the ground with it, until he warned me. Hell, I didn't even known the snitch had been seen.

"He probably saved my life and I was too far gone in the blood lust to notice."

Ron was still staring.

Harry fidgeted.

"Say something."

After another moment of stunned silence, Ron spoke.

"_Malfoy_ saved your life? Draco _Malfoy_ saved your life? And what's with calling him _Draco_?"

Harry mentally slapped himself.

"We, uh, decided to be friends." He braced himself.

"FRIENDS!?! WITH _MALFOY_!?! The god damned **BASTARD** who's _tortured_ us for _SIX **BLOODY YEARS!!?!!"**_

Harry waited for Ron's tirade to run down. When his ears stopped ringing, he spoke in a subdued voice that was, nonetheless, still full of conviction.

"Yes, Ron, I'm friends with Draco Malfoy." Ron didn't interrupt him yet, he seemed to need to hear Harry's reasoning. "Draco and I have almost every class together these days, including Occlumancy, history of magical creatures, and advanced DADA. In all three of those classes, It's just the two of us. the first night back he woke me from one of my nightmares –yes, the bloody ones – and he did it again last week." Harry didn't tell Ron about that vision yet; he wanted to talk to Dumbledore and Draco first.

"He has his own problems as well –and, no, I'm not allowed to tell you – and I've helped him with some of those." Harry gave a faint smile. "Plus, It's hard to avoid first-name-terms with someone you've nearly, well, _eaten_ three times. Do you maybe understand?"

Ron still looked uncertain, but he was no longer angry, and he slowly nodded.

"Thank you." Harry whispered before clasping Ron's hand tightly.

At dinner that night in the great hall, Harry talked to Hermione. With a lot of persuasion, and not a little begging, she and Ron agreed to a truce, at least, with Draco and Hermione even went so far as to suggest that she made be able to carry on a decent conversation with him.

Now the only problem was getting Draco to agree to the same thing.

"Come on," Harry said for the fifth time, "It won't be _that_ bad."

"Yes it will!" Draco retorted from behind his door. "They'll _kill_ me!"

"No they won't." Harry tried to reassure him, but it probably would have worked better if he had been at all sure of that himself.

After about three hours, Harry finally managed to persuade Draco to meet his friends sometime that week. Actually, it was somewhat... funny how they came to the agreement.

See Harry had, with all his attempts at persuasion, managed to piss of Draco, who threw open his beedrom door in an attempt to startle Harry. Draco had every intention of yelling his head off, when he noticed Harry was no longer at eye-level. Looking down, he saw a slightly dazed version of the other boy prop himself up on his elbows, lift one hand, and rub the circular red mark around his eye.

Bad idea.

Harry hissed and decided not to touch it.

Draco was mortified.

Harry reached behind himself and picked up his wand, which was lying on the floor. With a flick and a mutter, Harry had a small bag of ice in his hand, which he promptly placed on his eye, which was definitely going to hurt in the morning.

Draco, to hide his guilt, started in on Harry for being in front of his door handle at all. Harry just grinned and bore it.

When Draco realized harry wasn't gonna rise to his bait, the flow of insults slowly trickled out. Then silence fell; the only sounds were Harry adjusting the ice.

Eventually, Harry spoke.

"So, would you mind meeting my friends to talk in a civil manner?"

Still feeling oddly guilty about smacking Harry with the door, but not about to apologize, Draco gave in without much of a fight.

The next morning, Harry had a splendid black eye.

The following Monday, as the class was leaving from the final period of the day, DADA, Harry paused just outside the door to tie his shoe. Draco stopped as well. He had said that there was something he wanted to tell Harry. Just as Harry was about to stand and head for his room, he heard a raised voice from behind the door and, of course, he couldn't resist putting his eye to the key hole. While gesturing for Draco to be quite, Harry saw a tall figure facing an armchair. Things were too distorted for him to make anything out clearly.

"How should I know? You ver the one who vas alvays vith him. Ven I left, you ver all still discussing the transfer. The last I saw of him vas ven you two vaved me off the day I left."

There was a pause, and Harry could see a shape, outlined by the fire (the classroom had no windows), detach itself from the armchair. It melded into the other standing shape.

"'M sorry. 'M jest s' scared..."

The sounds of quiet sobbing reached his ears and he was about to leave whoever it was in peace, when two things happened.

One, Krum started talking again and two, Harry realized who the second – female– speaker was.

"Ve vill find him. Ve haff to. I vill talk to the headmaster tonight. Jeremy vill be alright, you vill see."

The sobbing died down.

"But 'm still scared. I ain't 'eard from 'im in three months. I miss 'im so, 'nd anyway, you know what 'es like. Probly stopped eatin' 'nd everthin' when I left."

The sobbing started up again.

"Jesse, he vill be fine. I vas vith you long enough to know; the boy does haff some sense. Anyvay, he's strong enough to go a month vithout eating and not combust. He vill be all right and ve vill find him soon. I promise."

The sobbing quieted. With a few sniffs, he heard Jesse talking once more as she collected herself.

"Thanks. 'M sorry I showed up 'nd ruined your evenin'."

"Do not say anything. I'm glad you knew you vould be able to come here. Now," Krum's voice took on a slight lecturing type tone, "you vill go to the Great hall and haff dinner. Then you vill go to Gryffindor tower and you vill do your homevork, after vich, you vill go to bed and get some sleep. It vill do no good to find Jeremy healthy just to haff you get sick."

Jesse laughed.

"Someday, your gonna have t' git married, jus' s' you c'n talk t' a couple a kids like 'at. You'd make a great father."

With out any warning, the door burst open. And where do you think Harry's non-black eye was? You got it.

"Damn it!" Harry swore as he conjured up ice again and put it on his newly damaged eye. "Now I'm gonna look like some kind of insomniac!"

"Vell Harry, you know how to avoid that in the future. Do not listen to private conversations you ver not invited into, and the same goes for you, Mr. Malfoy."

A/N: This chapter was a little more difficult to write than some of the others, particularly because, during the Quidditch scene, I kept seeing most phrases with a double meaning. It was very difficult to be serious, so I apologize if some of it sounds forced. Hmmm. Perhaps I'll try my hand at a scene where all the subtext about brooms can be freely expressed. True, I don't usually write like that, but you never know. Maybe I'll turn out to have a knack for it.

The second reason it took so long was that I acted like an idiot and wrote out most of it on paper, which seriously slowed up the typing process. I'm definitely not doing that again. Nope. Nuh-uh.

Lastly, I didn't come up with the second-black-eye/insomniac part. I was explaining this chapter to a friend of mine and she came up with that. Thanks Lil!

As to reviews, Please&ThankYou.

-Leif


	16. chapter sixteen

Recap: "Damn it!" Harry swore as he conjured up ice again and put it on his newly damaged eye. "Now I'm gonna look like some kind of insomniac!" "Vell Harry, you know how to avoid that in the future. Do not listen to private conversations you ver not invited into, and the same goes for you, Mr. Malfoy."

Chapter Sixteen

Both boys had the grace to look sheepish, though Draco, just barely so and Harry didn't really convey too much expression through the ice bag.

"Vell," Krum continued, "It looks as though you vill be needing to hear the whole story. Jesse, if you vould." Krum gestured them into his classroom and then into his office across the way. Jesse didn't look too bad, her eyes were red and it was obvious she'd been crying, but it could have been over any little breakup. Some more waving, and the two, slightly guilty, boys conjured chairs (with a look from Krum) and sat down in front of his desk. Krum himself stood, and Jesse, apparently on quite familiar terms with him, sat in the armchair behind his desk.

"Now," the defense professor started, "My vithholding information is likely to cause more problems than it vill solve, so ve vill tell you the whole story. How much did you hear through my door?"

"Umm." Harry said, looking at Draco. "A bit. We heard everything after you raised your voice and asked Jesse how you should know where... someone... was."

Krum scowled.

"A most inconvenient place for you to haff come in." He turned to Jesse. They looked hard at each other for a moment, before Krum spoke. The single syllable he uttered was in some other language Harry couldn't understand (Bulgarian or whatever was Krum's native tongue), but Jesse, apparently, could because she responded with a very similar – if not identical – sound and Krum turned to look at his rouge pupils again.

"Jesse has agreed." He took a deep breath. "You know, of course, that I traveled and spent the greater part of last year vith an American family in Texas, correct?"

They nodded.

"Vell, it happens that Jesse vas a member of this family. You see, ven I decided to travel about that particular continent, I put it to the ministry there first, and they told me vat I could do. They said there vas a family that vould be only too glad to host me, and, though I vas a bit suspicious, I agreed. Jesse," He looked fondly at the girl, "Vasn't very pleased ven I showed up. However, ve soon managed to put that aside."

Jesse interrupted.

"Ye may've, but I din't, 'n' I still don't like ye. Ye din't 'ave no cause t' be sneakin' 'round our place. We's doin' jes fine witout ye." She glared at Krum, but it was obvious she was fighting a smile. "'T any rate," she continued, this time addressing Harry and Draco, "'e showed up 'alf way true las' year 'nd we got stuck wi' 'im fer good. Reason th' damn min'stry sent 'im t' us 's 'cause dey know we got t' be _grateful_" she spat the word, "fer 'em lettin' us be. See, Jer'my aint 'xcatly... _normal_." She turned slightly to look a Krum, who stared, uncomprehending for a moment, before realizing what she was asking him.

There followed a quick conversation in Bulgarian, or whatever, and all Harry could recognize were a few names, his, Krum's and the other boy... Jeremy. After a few moments, Jesse turned to them. She was grinning like mad.

"I din't know _you _'er one 'f 'em."

Harry was confused.

"One what?"

She grinned even wider, if that were possible.

"Jer'my," she said, obviously intending to draw this out as long as possible. "is a..."

She grinned.

(A/N: take a wild guess)

"What?!" Harry and Draco asked at the same time, both almost over come by the need for clarity in this extremely confusing story.

"Vampyre." She said simply.

Harry stared at her for a long moment as everything came together.

"See, our min'stry, 'ike t' muggle part 'f our country, 's more concerned wit' gay stuff at t' moment. Vamps take a... back seat. dey c'n git rid 'f Jer'my 'n' t' entire fam'ly if'n dey want. 'n' we _are_ mostly jes a... _distraction_ at t' best 'f times. So, dey stuck 's wit' _Vicky_ 'ere," Krum scowled again at the nickname, "'n' we aint bin able t' git rid 'f 'im."

Jesse went on to explain that Jeremy was, like Harry, a born vampire. When he hit sixteen, almost two years previous, the two of them had, by trial and error, discovered most of his powers. Unfortunately, Jeremy had been forced to 'borrow' other wizards, and the ministry had discovered their little secret. Krum, though she didn't like to admit it, _had_ helped Jeremy. With Krum on the team, Jeremy and Jesse had learned a lot more than they would have, otherwise.

"Th' problem's 'at we ain't seen hide n'r hair 'f Jer'my since I lef', 'n' 'at's jes not right."

Draco spoke for the first time in about twenty minutes.

"What do you believe happened to him?"

Jesse looked at Krum for a moment.

"_Vicky_ probly doesn' _agree_, 'n' m'by 'm jes overreactin', but I tink Moldywart's got 'im."

"What!?" Harry said, not entirely sure he heard correctly.

"I think," Jesse repeated, "that _Moldywarts_, ye know, T. Riddle, Mister V, caught 'im doin' somethin' _real_ intell'gent, 'n' now 'e's stuck in some damn fortress 'r another."

Draco thought for a moment.

"I'm not so sure," he finally said, "I don't know why the Dark Lord would want him, unless he knew Harry was a vampire and needed Jeremy for his experiments." Jesse, though she was trying to act brave and uncaring, paled at this. "But even so," Draco continued hurriedly, "I don't see why he'd go to the trouble of kidnapping Jeremy from another continent when it would probably be so much easier to simply abduct a local."

Draco really was doing his best to try to comfort the girl.

Unfortunately, Malfoy's aren't exactly... well practiced... in the arts of comforting others.

Oh well.

"What I still don't understand," Harry said after a moment, "is why you don't have a last name."

Jesse blushed, distracted, for the moment, from melancholy thoughts about the fate of her friend.

"Well, S'pose I've got one, I's jes ne'r told. See, m' ma 'married' into a tribe 'f indians out there, but I's already born. I ne'r knew m' pa, 'e lef' ma soon's 'e found out 'bout me. When we lef' the tribe, I's six, we'n 'er sis, not blood s'ter y'understand, 'n' Jer'my, who ain't _really_ th' son 'f m' aunt, she jes found 'im 'bandoned at few weeks old, 'n' we bought 'couple a farm houses cheap 'n' moved in.

"s' there y've got it, m' fam'ly his'try."

Harry blinked for a few moments, trying to straighten it all out through her, erm, _thick_ accent.

"Make sure I've got this right." He finally said, "Jeremy is the adopted son of your mother's adopted sister, and your father ran out on you before you were born?"

"'S purty much it."

Harry nodded.

"Vell, then," Krum interjected after a moment or two of complete silence. "The three of you should be going to yours beds, the time is late."

They all nodded dutifully and Jesse led the way from the room. Once in the hall, however, Harry motioned Draco to go ahead and he pulled Jesse aside.

"Hey, um, if you ever need anyone to talk to, a fried maybe, you're welcome to come visit Malfoy and I."

Jesse grinned.

"Huh. Dint know you _Englishmen_'s 'at quick o'er here."

Harry, catching the, um, meaning of her statement, blushed.

"Hold up, that's not what I meant. I only... I just..."

Jesse grinned some more.

"I know Harry. I's jes playin' wit' ya. T'anks, though."

She grinned once more before spinning about and heading off down the corridor.

Harry scowled.

"Girls."

* * *

At the same time Harry was having a meaningful brood as he _slowly_ walked towards his room, Draco was pacing up and down in front of the hearth, trying in vain to come up with words to explain Malfoy family life to Harry. The reason for this abrupt decision was sitting on his bed.

It was a letter, delivered during lunch, from his mother.

_Dearest Draco,_

_I fear I am the bearer of most dreadful news; your father has disappeared. I understand, dear, if you are not saddened by this news, he did disown you after all, but you need to keep your eyes open. I've no idea where he is at the moment, but if he approaches Hogwarts, I fear for your safety. It just may be time to alert that old fool of a headmaster, apparently your father has rubbed off on me, to the possibility that Lucius may be in the neighborhood. Please be careful._

_You have my love, _

_Narcissa_

And so, Draco, realizing that this was another of those "deadly secrets" the two of them had sworn off, was going to explain his home life to Harry.

Speak of the devil, the portrait swung open.

"Hey Draco," Harry said, stepping in, "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

Draco gulped.

"Um. Harry, I..." He was scrambling for words. Eventually, when Harry sat down, Draco decided the simplest thing would be for Harry to read the letter himself.

"Accio letter."

Harry took it, when Draco offered it. After he finished reading, he looked up.

"What's this mean?"

Draco sighed.

"It means that my father is involved in some sort of underhanded deatheater scheme and mother, though she doesn't say it outright, knows that he wants me for it. After the way I was... thrown out... last summer, My father is as likely to kill me as look at me." Seeing Harry's puzzled look, Draco elaborated. "As a shapeshifter, each shape has, in the mind, a color attached. Other shifters can see this pattern and the truly adept readers can puzzle out a personality and some parts of the future from the pattern of colors and the number of shapes. According to Lucius, my "aura" was such that I was going to betray our side and commit the worst sin possible, bond with someone who strongly opposed the dark lord. Add to that the fact that, according to my mother, who is not a shapeshifter but has developed the sight from the years in contact with my father, I'm to have six shapes, which is an abnormally high number indicative of very powerful magic. I think Lucius was jealous as well.

"At any rate, when he disowned me he didn't bother with wands, he marched me, on foot, all the way down the drive from the manor and to the gates whereupon he threw me, again by hand, I'm amazed at his strength, over the gates. The top bars, black and filed to a point in hopes of deterring intruders, caught my stomach as I went over."

Harry nodded in understanding and was about to reply, when professor Snape's head appeared in the fire.

"Boys!" the Snape-head barked.

The two of them spun on the spot.

"Yes, sir?" they said in unison. If Snape was at all taken aback by this he didn't show it.

"I want you two in my office five minutes ago, I have decided that Mr. Malfoy will get to perform the spell tonight and I want more time than usual."

The two boys just stared.

"Move!" the head yelled once more before disappearing.

Harry and Draco, both sporting equal looks of dread, hurriedly complied with the orders of their bad-tempered potions master.

In little more than five minutes, they were opening the door to Snape's office.

"About time." The greasy-haired git said.

"Malfoy, stand here. Potter stand here." They complied.

"Remove your outer robes and spread them beneath you." When the robes were spread, Snape muttered some thing and shot blue lights at both robes.

"Remove any hard objects from your person, wristwatch off Potter, you don't want to fall on them and I don't want blood on the floor." The watch came off.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy, you will perform _Legilimens_ on Potter. Any questions?"

Harry clenched his fists. Draco shook his head.

"Begin."

Draco looked Harry straight in the eye, raised his wand, and cast the spell.

"_LEGILIMENS!_"

Harry was newly turned eleven and watching a pale boy in Madam Malkin's... Earlier that same day the giant of a man was pounding on the door to the hut on the rock as Harry shivered underneath his single sheet... Piers Polkiss was holding his arms as Dudley pummeled him...

Harry found himself breathing hard on one knee. Across from him, Draco was still standing.

"Again!"

"_LEGILIMENS!_"

He was looking at a photo of Sirius at his mum and dad's wedding... He was looking at Sirius in the shrieking shack with Ron, broken leg and all, on the bed behind him... He was looking at Sirius as he fell through the veil...

"No!"

Harry was on both knees this time, apparently Snape's spell turned the robes into cushions.

"Again!"

"_LEGILIMENS!_"

He was soaring through the air as he dodged the Hungarian horntail... Ginny was pale as death on the floor of the chamber of secrets as a basilisk reared up behind him... Voldemort/Quirrell was laughing at him...

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!"

A blond woman was sobbing into pillows... A house-elf was bearing a tray of sweets... Pansy Parkinson was kissing him and he was pushing her away... Crabbe and Goyle were guffawing stupidly...

With a cry Harry found himself flat on his back.

"Longer than usual, Potter, but you appear to have fended off Mr. Malfoy."

Harry forced himself up and saw Draco doing the same across from him.

"Again. This time Potter, you cast the spell."

Shakily, Harry got to his feet and raised his wand.

"_Legilimens._"

Hermione was slapping him... A scruffy-looking malnourished boy with untidy black hair and broken glasses was talking to him as he was fitted for robes... a horrible shadow had silver unicorn blood dripping from it's long, wicked fangs...

"STOP IT!"

Ron was yelling something about presents as Harry caught sight of the small mound at the foot of his bed... Aragog's eyes were glittering as his many children closed in on them...

"LEAVE OFF!"

He was soaring with his own wings... Lucius Malfoy's eyes were shining with disappointment...

"GET OUT!"

The woman to his left mocked _"I want to know where Sirius is!"..._

"FUCK OFF!"

Cold gray eyes, "You are a disappointment to your name"...

"BLOODY HELL!!"

Cruciatus curse. Pain beyond pain. The image kept shifting between Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy. He was dying.

"**_FINITE INCANTATUM!!_**"

White. White roof. Why would a dungeon have a white roof?

"Well," came a well-known voice from behind him, "We shan't be trying that again any time soon."

* * *

During the slow journey back to their rooms, Harry and Draco took turns explaining the memories the other had seen.

"You know that the first transformation is triggered by extreme emotion?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, in my case, it was that image you saw of my mother sobbing into her pillows one night last summer after my father went to Azkaban. Unbelievable as it may sound, Malfoys can fall in love, and my mother loves my father. I was furious and quite sure I hated you. I was almost to the point of marching out after you myself save that I didn't know the way.

"You see, After my father... punished me, my mother would always come to my room and comfort me. She would have to leave the instant we knew my father was approaching, but she kept me from depression. I knew that somebody loved me and wouldn't hurt me."

Harry smiled sadly. He would have responded, but his scar chose that moment to flare in pain.

At his hiss, Draco looked back from where he was opening their door.

"What's the matter?"

Harry rubbed his forehead.

"Damn scar. It always hurts after an Occlumancy session."

Draco nodded and they headed in.

A/N:

My apologies for the delay in the chapter, It's been sitting around on my hard drive for a bit. To tell you the truth, I forgot it was there.

Actually, I got partway through the next chapter before realizing that the things I was describing couldn't happen yet because the scene they play off wasn't posted yet and, whoops, wasn't even typed.

Don't expect anything else this month, I'll probably write some more but I'm taking part in NaNoWriMo and, as a result, won't have time for any fanfiction period throughout the month of November. I'm planning to write a few more chapters this month and post them regularly throughout the month of November.

Please&ThankYou

-Leif

PS: There will be slash in the next chapter (non-graphic non-meaningful Drunken sex to be precise) And, as I have never written this sort of thing before, you'd all better wish me luck (though I'll probly find some way to cop out). I am NOT jumping along in their relationship, if anything it'll just wreak havoc.

However, It is the building block that I "forgot" when I started on the next chapter.

Whoops.

Wish me Luck!


	17. chapter seventeen

Recap: "What's the matter?" Harry rubbed his forehead. "Damn scar. It always hurts after an Occlumancy session." Draco nodded and they headed in.

Chapter Seventeen

By the middle of the following week, Harry and Draco were thoroughly fed up with Occlumancy lessons. It seemed that the fates were bored or something, because every single lesson found the two boys flat on their backs, attempting to throw off the after affects of the Cruciatus curse.

Needless to say, they weren't pleased.

And so, what with one thing or another, that Friday night found them sneaking around the hallways of Hogwarts, under Harry's invisibility cloak, on their way back from an illegal visit to the storerooms of The Three Broomsticks. Clutched under their arms were a large number of bottles of what appeared to be Firewhiskey and the newest project from the Butter-Beer Company (which contained a great deal more alcohol than the company's previous concoctions).

The boys were quite intent on getting drunk because (or so they told each other) after all they'd been through the past week, they deserved to "let off some steam", as it were.

The last thing either of them would be able to recall was clinking a couple of bottles together and raising them to their lips.

-----------------------

The next morning, Harry woke with a terrible headache. He decided, through the pain and tightly closed eyes, that, wherever the hell he was, It was warm and comfortable and he really just wanted to fall back into the dark oblivion provided by sleep.

Unable to do so, Harry eventually shifted onto his side, cracked his eyes open, squinted through the combination of lashes and early morning light and found…

There was something in the bed next to him.

Some_one_.

It was about then that he realized he was completely naked under the sheets.

That couldn't be a good sign.

Shit!

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, both naked, sat bolt upright at the exact same time. They wore equal looks of horror, which quickly morphed into grimaces that were covered by their hands as they both sprinted towards the bathroom in an effort to refrain from being sick all over the bedroom (Harry's bedroom).

Under normal circumstances, Harry would have been cursing Draco by this time, having assumed that the blond boy was to blame.

And yet, it is rather hard to blame someone when the two of you are leaning together for support with your heads bent over the same toilet, puking your guts out with equal intensity.

At any rate, they carefully avoided looking at each other as they hurried to their respective bedrooms. Neither was the least bit inclined to acknowledge _anything_ that might or might not have happened the night before.

Seriously. Harry was sure he'd be scarred for life, I mean, waking up naked next to _Draco_ _Malfoy_ of all people! However, as there was nothing Harry could do about it (Hermione's time turner having been confiscated at the end of their third year), he tried his level best to pretend that it hadn't happened.

---------------

That week passed slowly and painfully for the two boys. When you have all but one class with someone, many of these special classes where you two are the only students, and you live together, It's very difficult to 'not notice' the other person and it's impossible to completely avoid them.

That weekend, a Hogsmead weekend, came and went with little event save for Harry advancing to casting 'Expelliarmus' wandlessly. He was finally past the 'theory' stage (A/N: I can scrounge up a few "excerpts" from his textbooks if anyone's interested.) and was moving quickly through the five years of magic he knew.

However, like all good things, the relative "normalcy" couldn't last. That Friday night Harry woke, alone and screaming, from another vision-turned-nightmare of dying muggles and Wizards. This one had been particularly bad because, though it had started off as a basic "torture a random muggle" vision, after Voldemort had wished him a goodnight it had turned into a re-run of that summer's highlight.

See, one night in late June, Voldie had paid a visit to a muggle homeless shelter. He told Harry, over the screams, that he would be busy for Harry's birthday and he wanted to deliver an early birthday present.

For Harry's birthday, one hundred and sixty Muggles died through torture or fire. Voldemort had the right arm cut off of every one, even the children, and he laid them out to form the words "Happy Birthday Harry", before incinerating the city block.

No one woke Harry from this dream, he had to do it on his own.

When he emerged, weak and shaking,, from his bedroom at one in the morning, he told his pride and disgust where to shove it and headed for Draco's room. Knocking on the door, he prayed that Draco would put aside any ill feelings and let him in. Harry was terrified of spending the night alone.

----------------

When Draco, after wrestling with himself for a bit, opened his bedroom door, it was to find a sheet-white Harry Potter clutching his bedcovers. Judging by the way said boy was shaking, Draco guessed he'd just had a nightmare.

"Yes?"

Harry gulped.

"Can I… I'm… scared. I don't want to… be alone."

Draco understood perfectly.

"Wanna stay the night?"

Harry swallowed again and nodded.

In all honesty, Draco didn't mind. He'd been having an unpleasant time of it, recently, and worrying about someone else would be a pleasant change.

Wait a moment.

Did he just admit he was _worried_ about the other boy?

Draco shuddered and walled off that part of his brain.

He gestured for Harry to take one side of the bed and conjured up a few more pillows.

With Harry curled up against his back, Draco quickly drifted off into a much more content sort of sleep.

Content.

Draco decided to find out where _that_ came from in the morning.

-------------------

Saturday went by rather quickly, what with Quidditch and classes (ADADA and such). Occlumancy that night wasn't much fun, though. The last week or so, when Harry and Draco practiced on each other and things went reasonably, they broke free faster and faster each time. However, if a particularly bad memory surfaced, they would both become "stuck" and would be forced to let the memory play out. Snape, the not-so-black-hearted professor, had begun conjuring beds for when they got stuck and went totally out of commission.

At any rate, Harry had learned a whole lot about Draco's family life. He felt rather sorry for the boy, after all, he at least knew that his parents had loved him. Draco had no such reassurances. He had no reason, whatsoever, to believe his parents thought of him as any more than an heir. Expensive property, but no real worth. Draco, in turn, had seen enough of Harry's visions that, if Draco had harbored ANY loyalties to the Dark Lord before they started, he certainly didn't now.

The vision that night was the one that had prompted Harry's visit to Draco's room earlier that week.

The two of them screamed and writhed and cried for a long while after that one.

As they limped back that night, Harry was in a foul mood, and no wonder! This last lesson had only reminded Harry of the hatred that had been building up inside him since he'd first learned of Voldie and his deatheaters. Obviously, he was going to kill Lord Voldemort or die trying, but those deatheaters weren't mentioned anywhere in the prophecy. As a result, it wasn't guaranteed that Harry would get a chance to fight them. Not that that was going to stop him.

Plus, if he did manage to kill them all, his visions and conscience might be assuaged.

They were almost to their common room when Draco collapsed. Harry caught him before he hit the ground. Draco's face was contorted in pain and his arms were wrapped around his middle.

"What's wrong? What can I do?"

Draco was breathing hard.

"Honestly… Potter… Are you… really that… thick? …It's the bloody… twenty-second… of…October."

Oh.

Draco was coming into his first shape.

"Oh."

Quickly and carefully, Harry hoisted Draco up and draped one of the blond's arms around his own shoulders. With his other arm 'round Draco's waist, Harry supported them both over the threshold and onto a couch.

--------------------------

A snake. An emerald snake. As the forked tongue flicked in and flicked out, Harry couldn't help but notice just how beautiful the snake was. It was only a foot or so long, but it was colored in such a way as to make it quite intimidating. Most of it's body was green scaled and shone as if each scale were a jewel polished to perfection. I said _most_ of it's body was green because there was a row of silver diamond all the way up it's back leading to it's face, which was entirely silver save for a green ring around each of the silver eyes.

" _Nicccce, Draaaco. I'm looovvvving the loook. It ssssuitssss you."_

The snake was not amused.

"_Ifff your sssso sssmart, do tell me offff my patternning."_

Harry grinned.

"_Wonderffful shhhhiny green withhhh ssssilver diamondssss. Your facccccce isss alsssso sssilver sssave ffor an emmmrald ring around your eyessssssssss. Assss I sstated befffore, it ssssuits you."_

The snake slithered towards Harry.

"_Diamondsssss you sssssay. That'sssssss interessssssting. My fffathhher will be mossssst disssspleassssed."_

Harry was puzzled.

"_Whhhhy would your fffathhher be dissssspleassssed?"_

The snake moved onto Harry's hand.

"_Becausssssssse, dear Potter, diamondsssssssss ssssstand fffor purity. Thhat I shhhould have thhhhem at alll angersssss my fffathhher, but to possssesss thhhem againssssst emmerald ssssskin, amoung ssssssserpent shhhhhhiftersssss a sssssymbol of goodnesssssss, issss an act worthhhy offf dissssowning."_

Harry nodded in understanding, though he found it interesting that silver and green were the Slytherin house colors.

The next few hours were spent rather enjoyably for the boy and the snake; the one describing things to the other and then the other describing what _he_ saw. As the night drew to a close, both boy and snake were feeling quite exhausted. Harry, with the snake's permission, grabbed clothes from Draco's room and a blanket from his own before curling up on the floor. The emerald snake had no problems with wrapping round Harry's neck and chest, and the two drifted off into sleep rather quickly.

You'd think they'd have learned from the last time.

---------------------

The following morning, Draco woke to find himself in a very… suggestive position with all of his naked appendages wrapped rather lewdly around Harry's. Quickly moving away, more worried about the Gryffindor waking in that position than seeing what he shouldn't, Draco searched frantically for his clothes. Finding them, he quickly pulled them on before toeing the sleeping lump in the side.

"Wake up you lazy Gryffindor, we've got Quidditch and classes to attend despite it being Saturday morning. You _do _want to win the cup, don't you?"

"Of course I want to win," the blanket grumbled, "but I never _ever_ said I wanted to get up early on a Saturday to do it."

Draco smirked.

"Check your watch, _Potty_, it's not exactly early."

Counting slowly, Draco waited.

_One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine-_

"Shit!"

Apparently, Harry realized it was past noon.

---------------------

After surviving the day, and Occlumancy, Harry was looking forward to a long, undisturbed rest that night. Unfortunately, the nightmares had other plans. And so it was that Harry Potter once more stayed the night in Draco Malfoy's bed (A/N: minds OUT of gutters you pervs).

Sunday dragged on, what with neglected homework and classes, but it was rather interesting. In their history of magical creatures class, they were studying mates of vampires (they'd done shifters the week before). Many legends are constantly floating around about vampires creating other vampires and such, but the truth is surprisingly simple. A vampire usually only 'turns' someone to save that person's life (in a manner of speaking) or, in the case of their mates, to ensure they spend eternity together.

But that's not all. You see, when a vampire turns someone, they have a choice to make. There is such a thing as "half-turned" or a "binding". The deal is, the non-vampire drinks a certain amount of the vampire's blood and it preserves their existence. The one who drank is NOT a vampire, and therefore neither needs nor wants to drink blood, but that person is bound to the vampire. The two of them can sense eachother's emotions and such. In addition, that person cannot die or age while the vampire lives and, should the vampire be killed, that person will suffer instant death. That is usually the method employed to save someone's life. If they disapprove when they wake, they have the option of killing themselves. At least, this way, they will wake.

With thoughts of saving his friends by turning them and having them then commit suicide, his nightmares forced him to seek comfort with Draco _again_.

-----------

Monday rolled around, the usual classes and such. Harry, sitting next to Ron and Hermione, was beginning to think he was missing things. They were not really talking to him. However, it could be that they were finally starting to realize that they were perfect for each other. Everyone else knew it, but they'd gone swimming, trying not to look at each other, in a certain river in Egypt (and, of course, Harry didn't realize how close to that river he truly was).

That night, Harry had yet _another_ nightmare. This time, Draco sensed it from his room. He got up and headed to Harry's bed.

Harry was writhing around and arching his spine as far backwards as it could possibly go. Obviously, he was in a lot of pain. Hoping to bring him out of it quickly, Draco sprinted to the bathroom and came back with a large container full of ice-cold water. When that didn't work, Draco began to worry. He didn't realize that this wasn't a normal nightmare.

Draco tried everything, shaking, water, loud noises, and bright light, everything he could think of. Eventually he just collapsed, exhausted, next to Harry, who was now whimpering like a kicked dog. With thoughts of _What the heck, it can't hurt anything_ swimming around his head, Draco wrapped his arms around the tortured boy and pulled him close.

Shortly after this, Harry's wordless whimpering turned to screaming again. Draco could only listen in horror and fear to the scene that unfolded from Harry's lips.

"No. Not her… She didn't… she couldn't… it's not her fault… you know it's not her fault… please… no… not again… please… no… It'll break… his heart… no… please! No!"

The screaming started up again and just as quickly stopped. Harry was still writhing in pain, though no longer arching madly, but his voice was different. It wasn't his voice. Draco knew that high, cold voice from those last Occlumancy sessions, though he'd never hear it in person.

"No, Harry, I don't think I will. You see, little boy, she has betrayed me. Not consciously, of course, but she has betrayed me just the same. I punish those that betray me. She needs to be punished."

The screaming started again. Harry wasn't moving. Every muscle was tensed with the pain. It was like holding on to stone. When the whimpering started again, Harry's voice was so hoarse, Draco could make out very few of the words.

"Nuh… I… nnn… shhe… dint… 'im… loved… 'im… not… fault… gunna… her… kill... won't… serve… don't… NO!"

There was more screaming and then Voldemort's voice, for who else could it be, came through.

"Silly boy. Stupid boy. I don't care if it was her fault or not. She made a mistake by not informing me immediately. True, even if she had I would have still tortured her for loosing both of them, but this is the way it works.

"Now, make me a promise, and, possibly, I might not prolong her torture, I might keep her from the rest of my faithful deatheaters. You know what they'll do to her, don't you?"

Harry cried out in his own voice. Draco could only assume that he had been shown a vision of what the deatheaters would do to Voldemort's female prisoner, and Draco, judging by the heart wrenching sobs Harry was currently emitting, wasn't sure he wanted to know. Then the foreign voice returned.

"You know, I find I rather enjoy this. Ah well, you can't have everything I suppose. Are you willing to promise?"

Harry whimpered, but managed to squeak out a faint "yes"

"Good. You will tell them. You will break their little black hearts for me, and I might end her torture a little sooner. Agreed?"

Harry groaned but whispered "yes, yes, anything".

"Perfect. Don't bother trying to break your word, I will know. You know I will. Sleep well Harry, and don't forget."

Harry started screaming again. Every time his voice started to fade into whimpers, the pain increased and he screamed louder. He hugged himself, desperately, and then started to jerk. Still crying out with every jerk, Harry began sobbing again. When he started to cough up blood, Draco knew that he had to have, somehow, sustained a broken rib. Obviously, the prisoner was being violently kicked and Harry could feel her pain as if it were his own.

Draco didn't leave Harry's side until he lost consciousness.

------------------

A/N:

Hello all!

I got a comment last chapter from someone who called themselves (it was an "anonymous" review) ME( ). This person said that my fic is very similar to another and that some of the OC names are the same as well. I haven't read any others like this and wasn't aware that there were other Jeremys or Jesses out there, though, it may just be that I know what's going to happen and you guys don't (Save for Lily), so it seems different to me.

If, however, I'm completely wrong, tell me.

Also, I'd like to make an official apology, I got quite a number of comments on Jesse's speech and I'd like to apologize for it being difficult to read and say that I am aware of the fact that very few people from Texas really talk like that. However, my aunt does. I did NOT mean to either offend anyone OR make a general statement about the population. I was just attempting to use a stereotype to portray a difference and Give Jesse a Personality (If we ever get around to meeting Jeremy, he's got an accent as well). You have to admit that doing that with her words does lend her a bit of character that many other OCs don't get.

I am working on making Jesse's speaking a little more intelligible, though.

Next; I'm sorry it took so long to get this out, I spent most of laast month on NaNoWriMo and didn't have a whole lot of time for anything else. I hardly studied at all (which is terrible as I now have to, somehow, pull up a D in geom.) and I'm sacraficing more study time (two tests and a concert tomorrow) to get this out to you.

On the bright side, I've just recieved two really lovely reviews on the last chapter and am quite cheery.

Please&ThankYou

-Leif

PS: I seem to be sorry a lot in this note. I'm also sorry for how disjointed this chapter was. I REALLY REALLY want to get to the end of this week (in story-time) because I've got something to do I've been waiting for since about the third week after I began my story. I'm really quite nervous about your reactions. :::::starts fiddling with hair; a nervous habit she has yet to break::::::


	18. chapter eighteen

Recap: Obviously, the prisoner was being violently kicked and Harry could feel her pain as if it were his own. Draco didn't leave Harry's side until he lost consciousness.

Chapter Eighteen

When Harry woke, it was to the feel of arms around his waist. He was curled up against a warm body. Trying to move, he groaned and nearly blacked out. At the noise at movement, the body behind his woke up.

"Don't try to move yet, Harry. You'll only make it worse."

In defiance he tried to straighten his body again. With a scream, everything went black.

* * *

The next time he woke, he fared a little better. Someone had laid him out and he was propped up slightly on his pillows. Carefully trying to squint, he realized that his eyes wouldn't open. Panicking, he tried harder, but that just made them hurt. Whimpering in fear and renewed pain, Harry heard a voice trying to comfort him.

"Shhh, shh. You're all right. Give me a moment and you'll be able to open your eyes."

He felt a cool, wet cloth bathing his eyelids. Slowly, he was able to open them.

He saw a blurry Draco Malfoy sitting in front of him holding a slightly pink-stained rag in one hand, and Harry's hand in the other.

"How're you feeling?" Draco asked, seeming quite concerned. Taking stock of his body, Harry managed to rasp out,

"Li' 've been h' by a bus."

Nodding, Draco offered Harry a glass of water for his throat.

"That's only to be expected."

Harry drank carefully, he really didn't want to go into a coughing fit.

"T'me?"

Draco placed the glass back on the nightstand.

"Past noon. It's Thursday."

So he'd been asleep for over forty-eight hours. Hmm, that last vision must have taken a lot out of him.

"Dumbledore's been here several times, he seems to know what happened, said so in fact. He said he knew what you had seen and that you didn't have to worry, he'd deal with it. Told Pomfrey not move you and told me we both get off classes until you're strong enough. I'm to watch you."

Harry nodded, wondering what, exactly, Dumbledore knew. Obviously, Snape (who Harry had seen there in Malfoy Manor) had told him. Now, how the hell was Harry supposed to those two?

"Here," Draco held out a small vial, "Dobby, our old house elf, brought this up. I didn't realize he was here. Father was furious when we lost him. I wasn't complaining, though; more trouble than he's worth with his quests for freedom. Did you know he's been illegally helping us out all year? Pomfrey said your throat was already healed, just sore. This ought to help with the pain. It's just an illusion, so it should work, but we can't talk for long."

Tuning out the babbling of the over-stressed Slytherin, Harry knocked back the vial and another gulp of water. Testing his voice, he began to question Draco.

"How much did you hear last night? How much do you know?"

Draco was ready.

"Harry, we don't have to talk about this now. I'm not going to force you."

He glared.

"Yes. We. do. When I have my visions, they have to be acted upon. The Occlumancy means I can tell the difference between real visions and fake, so I know this is real."

"Besides, you need to know what happened to her."

He faced Draco with such a look of pity, Draco was seriously considering leaving.

You know sometimes when you dream, you don't remember it in the morning? All right, have you ever seen something, the following morning, that reminded you? Well it was something like that for Harry. Seeing Draco, standing there, with the warm glow of reflected sun softening his face, Harry was reminded of a dream he'd had a few nights previous. In this dream, he'd simply lain with Draco, curled together as they had been that morning after Draco's third transformation. Harry realized that he really, genuinely, truly _cared _for Draco, and that thought scared him. Employing Occlumancy to keep these odd thoughts at bay until a more opportune moment, Harry re-focussed on the blond boy in front of him.

Draco nodded, resigned.

"Alright, I believe you." He sat back, considering his words. "I came in to hear you moaning and whimpering that, and I quote, 'it wasn't her fault'. I recognized Voldemort's voice coming from your mouth and I gathered that you were having a vision and a woman was being tortured. Voldemort was pissed at her for not telling him something and he was punishing her. He made you agree to tell someone something in exchange for not giving her to his deatheaters. You agreed and the rest was just you screaming."

Harry had gotten very pale.

"You've got it all, Malfoy. I have to fulfill my promise or…" he trailed off. Taking a deep breath he ordered "brace yourself and know that I am here when you can think again."

"Wha-"

"It was Narcissa Malfoy."

Draco just stared in shock. Throwing himself away from the bed, he cried "No! That's not possible! You're lying!" But the truth was etched in sorrow on the emerald-eyed teen's face.

"It's true. It's true. I had to watch as… But if I didn't tell you, they were going to… going to… to rape her."

Draco collapsed to the floor.

"I heard them talking, apparently Lucius ran off and left her. She failed to inform Voldemort… I don't think she was very loyal to him."

"No, she wasn't." Draco gave a weak sort of laugh from his position in the corner. "She was always less dark than my father. She loves me, I think. And I'm pretty sure she loved my father despite his cruelty. You know he's never told me that? He always says that the one thing a Malfoy heir should want most is to make his family proud. I was always supposed to pray and work for that. He never said it, though.

"You know what? My greatest wish growing up was to hear him say he loved me. I can remember being six at the manor just after he fired my governess, I remember looking at the ceiling of my Slytherin colored room and thinking 'I wish Father loved me'. I was six.

"But then, this is the man who taught me all I know. Have you heard that saying 'Blood is thicker than water'?"

Harry nodded, surprised that Draco was opening up this much to him.

"Well, Lucius had a saying as well, only his was 'Money is thicker than blood'. That's what I grew up to. Harry, do you have any idea what kind of man raises his child like that? I remember, again from my all-too-brief childhood, one of the first days I decided to grow up. That was how it was for me, Harry, the world punished me like an adult and so, to-"

Harry cut in.

"And so, to escape the pain, I became one, for many things look bigger and more painful through a child's eyes."

Draco gaped.

"You knew? That is a lesson most Pureblood children learn that most other children don't have to."

Harry smiled, self mockingly, and nodded.

"I know. What was it that made you decide to grow up?"

Draco looked at the floor.

"One night, Narcissa took me out. We went for ice cream and we went shopping; I got all sorts of new toys. Lucius came to pick us up, and it was perfect. I almost thought he loved me. But then we passed a muggle play ground and I saw a dark-skinned little muggle boy pushing the swing for a little Chinese girl in a red dress. I asked Mother if we could stop so I could play with the other children…

"Father exploded. I was yelled at to the point where I was in tears, but Malfoys don't cry, so I just got yelled at some more. Mother hugged me, and father started in on her. That night, I heard him… hitting her."

Draco was crying now; just staring at the floor, crying silent tears. Harry couldn't stand to see anyone in that much pain. Ignoring his protesting limbs, he moved off the bed. Draco didn't notice.

"Since then, I've always been afraid for my mother; what if he went too far someday? Now though..." Draco choked back a sob. Harry moved carefully to the floor beside him.

"Harry." Draco said, but didn't look up. "You aren't supposed to move yet. Pomfrey will kill me."

Harry waved off the comment and leaned against the wall. Reaching out, he instinctively pulled the blond boy to his chest. Draco resisted for a moment before relaxing into the embrace.

"Even Heroes need to cry sometimes."

Finally, the Slytherin stopped fighting the sobs.

"I'm so scared. I love her, Harry, and even if Dumbledore is working on a rescue mission, she will still have been hurt. What if... what if, Harry? Without her, the only member of my family I have left is the one who disowned me."

"You'll stay with me, Draco."

But Draco didn't seem to hear him.

"You know what _he_'s like, Harry. You've seen him. What they'll do… How can she survive?"

Harry began rubbing circles on Draco's lower back, trying to provide comfort with gestures as well as words.

"She's Narcissa bloody Malfoy and you forget she was a Black first. They're very tough; she'll find a way. Neither of those bastards will win."

After that stunning speech (which Draco again didn't seem to hear), Harry simply held Draco, letting the other boy cry his woes out against Harry's chest. As shuddering sobs wracked the small body in his arms, feelings of great sorrow and pity and… another, less-placeable emotion flowed through him. Gradually, as the sobbing stopped, a new feeling overwhelmed Harry.

Anger.

Hate.

Harry was so furious and so overcome with hatred, he could hardly draw a breath. For a moment, Harry wondered what he was hateful and angry at. And then he knew.

Malfoy.

Not Draco Malfoy, the abused angel in his arms, but that angel's father.

Lucius Malfoy was a dead man.

* * *

_Holy hell, where did that thought come from!?! I referred to _**Draco **_as some sort of angel!

* * *

_

Friday, they stayed in; neither _really_ felt like socializing, plus, Draco was depressed and Harry had started bleeding again (internally: Poppy doused him in potion). Dumbledore had come in and discussed Harry's vision. He said that, by the time they got to Malfoy Manor, Narcissa was back and apparently in full health. She was, however, refusing to let anyone onto her property.

There was nothing they could do; she went so far as to tell them Draco couldn't come see her either.

Some time around noon, Krum came by and decided they were going to play school. They spent most of the rest of the day "reading up on famous beings who had been 'bound' to vampires" (dozing when Krum wasn't looking). That night, Draco, not even needing to swallow his pride, dragged his blankets to Harry's room.

"'Bout time, Potter." He said when Harry opened the door wandlessly and held the covers open for Draco to crawl in beside him.

* * *

Saturday, Halloween, Harry let Ron do Quidditch practice and he and Draco (still planning to go to the Halloween feast that night) stayed in to catch up on the homework they had missed that week. Again, the irony gods make an appearance.

Now, it was about noon, and Harry was in the middle of an essay on changing humans into dangerous rodents (fanged rats, badgers, poisonous rabbits), when Draco decided he was bored. Harry re-located to his room and wandlessly locked the door when Draco began tapping his quill against the table. Harry knew from experience that it would be only a matter of minutes before Draco began complaining.

Sitting on his bed with no one to distract him, Harry began to realize that he though too much when alone.

_Draco must be having a hard time of it, I'm not sure what I'd do if _my _parent was captured and tortured._

He laid back and let his thoughts drift. He slipped into a light doze.

_:::::::::::::: Dream/Flashback:::::::::::::::_

"_Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off – "_

"_James! I can't leave you!"_

"_You have to! He's here for Harry!"_

"_But you'll die James! He'll kill you!"_

"_I know that! But I have to protect my clan!"_

_Quick kiss._

"_I love you James."_

"_As I love you. Now go! I'll try to give you enough time."_

"_I wish –"_

"_I know. But wishes don't stop wars. Whatever happens, don't let him get Harry."_

"_I won't, James."_

_Last embrace._

_Pounding._

"_James –"_

"_No time!"_

"_I love you!"_

"_You are my heart, Lily. See you on the other side."_

_The sounds of someone stumbling from a room – a door bursting open – a cackle of high-pitched laughter –_

"_Is that all you've got?"_

_Crashing._

"_Pitiful, really. You ought to give up."_

"_NEVER!"_

_Silence._

_Up a stair case, doors on each side._

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!!"_

_Sobbing._

"_James, James, oh god. James!"_

_Stumbling. A fire roaring into life. Green flames._

"_D-dumble–"_

_The door is blown open. They hit the wall._

_HE is here._

"_This is as far as you got? Are you feeling weak? Your mate is dead, you know."_

_A cry of anguish. _

"_I needn't kill you, you know. There's only one thing I'm really here for."_

"_Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"_

"_Stand aside, you silly girl, I grow bored. Stand aside, now."_

"_Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead–"_

"_I'll kill you anyway if you persist, but I want him."_

"_Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…."_

"_Mercy!?! Since when has anyone given _**me**_ cause to show mercy!?! I will not! The child must die! Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"_

"_Not Harry! Not Harry! Please– I'll do anything–"_

"_Will you? Would you serve me?"_

"_If it would save him!"_

"_But That would be foolish of me. I've killed your mate, you've only minutes to live."_

"_Please! You've taken my husband! Leave him! He's a child! He can't possibly do anything to you! You've taken his family, leave him his life!"_

"_Now that, I'm afraid I can't do."_

"_Please!"_

" _You _**are**_ brave. Very foolish, but brave. I respect that. I will end your pain."_

"_Please!"_

"_Consider it a gift. You'll be seeing your blood-traitor husband soon."_

_Sobbing._

"_Oh don't sound so sad about it, You'll be seeing him again soon."_

_Sobbing. A slight scramble._

"_What are you doing?."_

_Blue light. She is whispering._

"_Live."_

_The light turns white._

"_Stop that. Stop that now! AVADA KEDAVRA!!"_

_Green._

"_Shame. She didn't have to go. Ah well, I suppose that just leaves you and me, Harry. You know, I would have loved to have you on my side, you would have been extraordinarily powerful. But then, you can't have it all."_

_Silence._

"_good bye, Harry Potter."_

_Deep breath._

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

_A wave of green, and Harry knew nothing more.

* * *

_

Pounding. Pounding on the door.

"Open up, Damn you! Open up!"

Harry's eyes shoot open, there were tears trickling down his face.

"God, Harry! Open the Bloody door!

Harry stared at the ceiling. So that was how it really happened. At least he now knew.

"Please!"

He sighed. Sitting up he felt for his glasses. With them on he went to the door.

"Harry! If you don't open this door right now, I swear to Merlin –"

Draco fell in on top of the dark haired boy.

"Oh."

"Hi."

"Shit."

They just stared.

"Are you alright?"

Of course he wasn't.

"Yeah."

Guilty looks.

"I tried to wake you but you had the door locked."

"So I gather."

Silence.

"So, Dumbledore said someone was coming by. He looked worried."

"That's not good."

"No kidding."

Silence.

Banging on the portrait. The two boys stood.

Harry moved out into their common room, wiping off the tears as he went. Just before he opened the portrait, a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to face Draco.

"Harry…"

Suddenly, the blond's mouth was touching his, just a brief brush of lips, and then they were pulling away.

"What the –"

Draco held up a hand. "I'm here if you need me." Then he reached forward, past Harry, and pushed open the portrait.

Harry, still dazed from this kiss, turned about dizzily and saw... Snape. The potions master was out of breath and his robes were more disheveled than usual.

"Yes sir?"

"Potter." He growled. "You need to come with me."

"Now? But professor –"

"Yes now!"

Harry got a sinking feeling of dread. He whispered:

"Why?"

Snape glared at him.

"Lupin's dying."

* * *

A/N: So, what do you think?

::Ducks flying objects::

Yeah, I know that was a terrible way to end it, but I've been planning that since I started writing this. Back in, like, January when I first had the Idea for this story, I planned… where is it… ah, here. I have, in my hand, one of the first sheets of paper I ever took notes on " Halloween. – Before the feast. – Harry and Draco talking. – Banging on the door – they open and find Snape there. –Says 'lupin's dying' and the chapter ends. – Must dodge pencils and other sharp objects being thrown at me as Lily best friend reads this over my shoulder."

Sorry.

I'll have the next chapter up as a Christmas present or whatever.

Please&ThankYou,

-Leif

PS: Many thanks to my wonderful new beta JJ CJ, who saw in the last chapter where I absentmindedly tried to claim that the snake was Draco's first shape rather than his fourth. Whoops.


	19. chapter nineteen

Recap: Harry, still dazed from this kiss, turned about dizzily and saw... Snape. The potions master was out of breath and his robes were more disheveled than usual. "Yes sir?" "Potter." He growled. "You need to come with me." "Now? But professor –" "Yes now!" Harry got a sinking feeling of dread. He whispered: "Why?" Snape glared at him. "Lupin's dying."

Chapter Nineteen

Harry froze.

"There is no time, Mr. Potter. Lupin was in critical condition when they brought him to St. Mungo's. We don't know…"

Snape, the potions master, trailed off. Harry sprung into action.

"I assume we're flooing from Dumbledore's office, professor?"

"You assume correctly."

The two of them started off down the hall without a word and looking remarkably similar. Draco was forgotten. Most Slytherins (along with a great many Ravenclaws and some Gryffindors) are incredibly resourceful, however, and so Draco was able to realize, in the space of about two seconds, that the best thing for him to do would be to follow the two dark-haired figures and, if he wasn't allowed to go with them to St. Mungo's, stay in the headmaster's office and comfort Harry when he returned.

Draco Malfoy knew his Potions master well, they had spent many afternoons together bottling rats brains and brewing complicated potions. They had talked an awful lot and, in the process had learned a great deal about each other. Draco knew the tone of voice Severus had used when he spoke the words "Lupin's dying". It was the tone of voice he'd sometimes used on Draco, that tone of voice meant that, whatever it was, it was final. Nothing could be done to change it, it would happen. What ever was wrong with him, Lupin would die from it.

Draco walked faster.

…….:::::::::::::::::.:::::::::::::::::::::……..

Harry was experiencing an odd combination of shock and denial. He was stunned by the news that Remus Lupin, his substitute godfather and last link to his parents, was dying. Every time he tried to emerge from the shock and accept what was happening, the denial kicked in. He was stuck. He couldn't move, couldn't breath, and yet here he was, calmly stating:

"St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, fifth floor, Charles De Lint ward."

A moment later, he'd passed through the fireplace and he and Snape were moving briskly down the hall. Stopping at room eight, Snape gave a quick double knock and left Harry to it. _Gee thanks…_

Opening the door quietly, Harry entered. He gasped when he saw the state of his former Defense teacher.

"Surely I don't look that bad, Harry."

Harry shook his head hurriedly.

"N-no, professor."

Lupin gave a sort of half-laugh.

"Harry, I haven't been your Professor for nigh on three years. Please call me Remus."

Harry couldn't believe they were having this conversation.

"Please, Harry, sit down, I haven't got much time left."

The dark-haired youth sat down quickly. He, the werewolf, certainly looked the part of "dear-friend-who-is-about-to-die". Remus Lupin had never been fat, by any stretch, but now he was positively starved. Gaunt and pained-looking, Harry wondered who had been taking care of him. He had dark circles under his eyes and he was leaning against the pillows, his pale and drawn face showing the strain of keeping his eyes open.

"Sir," the bed-bound man glared, "Remus, what happened?"

Remus sighed.

"It's a long, long story, and I'm afraid I haven't the time to explain it all to you. Suffice it to say, this is in no way your fault."

"But-"

"Harry," The werewolf groaned, "I'm going to leave, we just don't have time."

"But-"

"Look," He closed his eyes, "I don't want to make this more difficult than it already is, If I tell you the whole story, you will only blame yourself." Harry looked pleadingly into his former-professor's face. "Alright. I am a Werewolf."

Harry didn't get it.

"So?"

"Hasn't Hermione had you do _any_ reading?"

Harry still didn't get it.

"The basics, then. Werewolves, like wolves, mate for life. While the non-werewolf can live on after death, the werewolf cannot. If it's mate dies, the werewolf will not long outlive them. The dead mate will call to the werewolf. They, like many other magical part-humans, share a very special bond. When the mate dies, the werewolf wastes away, deep, deep in depression. Often, they end up killing them selves. The dead mate drains the Werewolf's magic."

Harry sort of understood.

"Your mate… died?"

Remus nodded sadly.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry."

"I know. I was once mated to one of the finest Human beings to ever grace this earth. I can feel him calling to me."

"Him?"

"Yes. Didn't you know?"

Well that was unexpected. Who would've thought?

"That you're gay? No, not until just now."

"Oh. You don't mind?"

"No, not particularly."

Remus smiled.

"That's good. I was a little bit worried for a moment. I know I shouldn't have, you being James' son and that. But still, you were raised by some very intolerant muggles from what I hear."

"Yeah. No, I don't know. Did my parents know? And Sirius?"

Remus barked a laugh.

"Of course Sirius knew!"

Something clicked for Harry.

"Oh. Oh no! He was your mate!"

"Who?"

"Sirius was, wasn't he? Oh god, I'm so sorry! Oh god, that's gotta be… And I…"

Harry was replaying that night in his head. He was watching as Sirius fell. He only now realized the depth of the strength in this werewolf. That he could hold Harry back when his own mate was dying… And Harry… Damnit! His fault! _Again!_

"Yes." Moony looked sad. "This is why I didn't want to tell you. I know you blame yourself for his death at the ministry, and I know that nothing I can say or do will change your mind."

Harry didn't say anything.

"So, yes. Sirius was my mate." Moony closed his eyes for a moment, weakly gesturing with a scrawny hand towards the bed stand where a deep read leather-bound book rested. "That is my Diary. In our wills, Sirius and I both stated that, were we to die, everything we owned would be left to you. You can have that now. God James teased us. You were about two months old when we first wrote that up. James was the proudest father you'd ever find and Lily, she was just beaming. We were so envious, you know, they were going to live forever and all, they were gonna have kids who, should they choose to, would do the same. Prongs offered to bind us, of course, but we declined."

Remus was exhausted.

"Harry, cherish the good times. I know you've got the potential to live until, well, until Armageddon if you're of a mind to, but still."

His breathing was short and ragged.

"Remus? Are you all right? Should I call someone?"

He Grimaced.

"There's nothing they can do. Didn't you wonder why I was on the fifth floor? Visitor's tearoom, gift-shop, and Hospice care. This is where they put us when they know there's no hope."

"Remus…"

"Harry, if you find someone, don't let her go. Or him, if you wind up swinging that way. Hell, it isn't the gender of the one you love, it's the _love_ part. Don't ever let them go, Harry, never let go."

Harry knew he was loosing. The Werewolf was giving up, letting go.

"Moony! I need you!!"

The dying Werewolf smiled.

"No you don't. You'll get along all right in a bit. I won't. I can't heal from this. I can't…"

"Wait!" Harry cried, but Moony wasn't paying attention.

"Sirius." He whispered. "Oh gods above, Sirius!" Remus had gone insane; he was talking to a patch of air above Harry's left shoulder. "Sirius!"

Harry lunged forward and grasped Moony's hand.

Then he gasped in shock.

The entire room was bathed in a white-gold light. It blanketed everything like… like some sort of snow. With mounting astonishment he turned, maintaining contact with Remus, and looked on in wonder.

Sirius Black was standing in the middle of the room. Harry jerked back in recognition, loosing Remus' hand in the process. The room returned to normal.

Harry turned back to Remus. Said werewolf was now crying silently. Harry reached out again and grabbed the hand lying on the bed rail.

The gold came back. Sirius came back.

Harry was speechless.

Padfoot beamed.

"Yup."

Harry cautiously reached out to touch him, but his hand passed straight through. He gasped in shock.

"Don't be afraid, Harry."

Another voice spoke from behind the apparition.

"There's nothing to be afraid of."

That voice. He _recognized_ that voice. But no, It couldn't be.

"Surprise, surprise." whispered James Potter as he and Lily stepped out from behind their comrade. James had his arm about Lily's shoulders.

Words failed him. Harry simply stared.

"There, now. That's not so painful, is it?"

Harry turned slightly, and saw Moony had two heads. _Actually_, moony had two torsos, but the wasn't the point. The point was, there was a mortal Moony, lying pale as death upon the bed, not really breathing, and there was _another_ Moony, sitting on top of, part way in, actually, that Moony. The sitting Moony held out a hand and Sirius pulled him off the bed.

"Took you long enough." grumbled Padfoot.

Immortal Moony blushed.

"Sorry."

Padfoot grinned.

"'S all right. You've got eternity to make it up to me."

"Are we allowed to have sex in heaven?"

The three original immortals laughed.

"You can do anything you like!"

The light began to dim.

"Harry!" James yelled, "Take care of yourself! You can see us anytime, if you know how. Just look really hard!"

"James! Cut it out!" Lily laughed, slapping her mate lightly. "Spilling secrets! You're lucky you don't get thrown out!"

"Awe," James gave the puppy dog eyes, "You wouldn't let them do that to me!?!"

Lily grabbed the Immortal Prongs and kissed him, hard. The two of them laughed and waved a final time before disappearing.

The light was dimming faster.

"Goodbye, Harry." Said Moony. "Padfoot? You coming?"

"Two seconds." Sirius turned to Harry. "It wasn't your fault. I'm in a better place now. It wasn't your fault I died; my cousin gets all the credit for that one. Do me a favor, will you? Slap her, hard, right across her ugly mouth and tell her it was from me, Alright?"

Harry nodded, tears now streaming down his face.

Sirius stepped back and linked hands with his mate.

"You ready?" Moony nods. "Here we go then."

One more wave.

One final fare well.

The light winked out.

Harry just sat and stared for a very long while at the spot where they had been.

…….:::::::::::::.:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::.::::::::::::::::::……..

When Severus Snape opened the door, there were a number of things he was expecting to find. A broken Harry Potter desperately clutching a dead hand was one of them. A dazed Harry Potter creepily smiling off into space while lightly grasping a dead hand was not one of them.

"Potter."

The dark-haired teen turned towards him.

"Yes Professor?"

Snape was uneasy.

"You can let go now."

Harry looked down at his hand. He rotated the wrist.

"Other hand."

Harry turned his head slightly. He rotated Lupin's hand. It was really stating to affect Snape.

"No I can't. If I let go, I'll never know." His voice was soft. "If I never know, then I will have missed. I can never feel what they do. But they did it once, I can do it."

The dead hand fell softly to rest against its rail.

Harry turned to look up at his professor.

"Can we leave now?"

Wordlessly, Snape nodded. As he opened the door and gestured for the Gryffindor to precede him, there was a sudden tremor through the floor.

"What the-?"

Snape was knocked to the side as another, stronger tremor swept through the building. And his forearm began to burn.

"Not again!"

He stood and attempted to get his balance, but he was knocked aside _again!_ This time, though it was not the floor.

"Potter! Get back here!"

But the boy was disappearing down the hall.

"Bloody imbecile."

…..:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::….

Outside, Tom riddle was thoroughly enjoying himself. Torturing people was always so much fun.

Unfortunately for him, the hospital had wised up. From back behind the wrecked receptionist's desk emerged one then two then four pink and purple clad figures. As they advanced on his deatheater minions, they linked arms with each other. Pretty soon, a wall of purple was blocking his view of the main floor, and, of course, he couldn't just blast through, his minions would turn on him and he'd be forced to kill them, leaving him minion-less.

But it wasn't all that bad, certainly he had expected this.

It was part of his plan.

And there was the other part of his plan, standing on the stairs and firing off stunners.

Wait for it, wait for it…

Now!

The spell raced away, a streak of yellow light hurdling headlong towards the lone figure on the stairs. The figure quickly constructed shields that would repel harmful spells, and when the yellow light hit them, it disappeared.

Yes.

"Back!" Voldemort yelled, voice magically magnified. "Back! Now! Back!"

And as quickly as they arrived, they disappeared.

Harry potter, still standing on the stairs, was completely in the dark.

…:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::…

A/N:

Apologies for the lateness of this chapter, but I have an excuse! I have had NO internet access since Christmas day. See, we got a new computer and switched our internet connection to that one and disposed of the other one, which is a problem as the new computer has no floppy drive, which is the only drive my writing computer can access.

It's been bloody boring.

At any rate, my dad is intending to find a floppy drive that can plug into the USB port. Once he does, I'll be able to post somewhat regularly again.

I had to type this chapter a second time in order to post it on the internet.

Awful.

I got a review from someone who only read to chapter eight (the sorting hat song), and though I strongly doubt, based on the review, that that person will continue reading, I'm responding anyway. This person said that my fic moved too fast and I could have expanded and added a great deal more detail, only they were kinda mean about it. At any rate, I'd like to say that this IS my first fic, those chapters towards the beginning were my first ever attempts at writing other than for school. They are in need of work, and I understand that, but I'd like to think I've gotten better since then, and I do plan to, after I finish this fic, take it down and Edit and re-write it and such, but I already take long enough to post chapters, you guys don'' need me doubling the time in between post so that I can re-write.

Please&ThankYou,

-Leif

PS: Eternity's longer than forever, count the letters.


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